


Fool in a Burning House

by lawsomeantics38



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Angst, Annoyed Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Enemies to Lovers, Enterprise has the worst fucking luck, Eventual Smut, Humor, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi, all the tropes: bed sharing and love/hate and fake relationships, love me a good slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2019-08-02 12:53:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 34
Words: 104,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16305611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lawsomeantics38/pseuds/lawsomeantics38
Summary: What if Klingons decided to raise a human as one of their own? And what if that human met the crew of the Enterprise during a raid on an unstable planet? It's dislike at first sight for Bones and the Klingon sympathizer. He doesn't trust her farther than he can throw her and the feeling is mutual. But attraction is a funny thing and the good doctor is in over his head this time...





	1. Chapter 1

_Only a fool fights in a burning house._

Klingon proverb

* * *

"Jim, I want you to know: I hate you, I hate this mission, and there's not enough bourbon in the universe to change my mind," Leonard McCoy grumbled as he set down a container of medical supplies and wiped his brow once more.

Jim sighed.

"Duly noted, Bones. That's only the seventh time you've told me you hate everything since we beamed down. I'm starting to think you might actually like this place."

Jim gave his friend a sideways glance as he swiped the sweat off his own forehead. Damn but it was hot here – the entire planet felt like a greenhouse – at least, the parts of the planet the Enterprise crew had visited thus far.

It was only a month into the maiden voyage of the Enterprise-A and already, the ship and her crew were being put to good use. They'd been called to Celos-D42 to assist its inhabitants after a series of quakes had ravaged the planet. The Enterprise crew were first responders and they were doing their best to provide fresh water and food to the Celosians while simultaneously helping in rebuilding efforts and analyzing the planet for information on what could have caused the quakes and if there would be more. McCoy had set up several different medical tents by the major cities on the planet and he had one more to establish here, next to the capital city. Jim was heading to the capital to meet with the Celosian leaders and had tagged along in the shuttle with McCoy and his medical team. He should've realized the price he'd pay for the quick transport was listening to his best friend gripe the entire time.

"Just once, I'd like to get called to a pleasure planet for assistance," McCoy grumbled and Jim stopped listening to the doctor's complaints as he focused on the tasks ahead for him.

"The chances of a pleasure planet putting out a call for assistance are slim, Doctor," came a familiar voice in both men's ears and McCoy cursed, having momentarily forgotten they were wearing the newest in Starfleet technology – tiny, clear disks just behind their ears that allowed others with the disk to hear what was being said. There were ways to filter the communications – for example, a crewman could tap their own disk twice to turn their speaker off. It was also possible to filter the crew members one wanted to communicate with but McCoy hadn't bothered to find out how to select who could hear and talk with him versus who couldn't.

"I don't recall asking for your input, Spock," McCoy growled.

"An illogical statement, Doctor –"

"That's enough," Jim jumped in, seeing the glint in McCoy's eye and feeling way too sticky to listen to his best friends spar at the moment. "Spock, where are you?"

"I await your arrival at the council building," the Vulcan answered, unruffled by the captain's interruption.

"Be right there," Jim replied and he turned to McCoy. "You good from here?" he asked and the doctor merely waved him off, conserving words and energy for his next tirade.

* * *

Jim was trying not to drift off during the council meeting. It helped that Spock was nudging him, even going so far as to step on his foot when he noticed Jim's head hanging a bit too low into his chest. Jim couldn't help it though. The room was so warm and the Celosians' voices so soothing as they spoke in that sing-song manner that reminded Jim of childhood lullabies sung to him by his mother, when she managed to stay on-planet long enough to sing him a goodnight tune. He shook his head to clear it of thoughts of Winona Kirk and winced as he flexed his foot.

"Didn't have to step on my foot so hard," he whispered to his first officer. Spock merely raised an eyebrow in response, an unspoken paragraph on why he felt justified in his actions held in that simple action.

"Chapel, calm down," a familiar gruff voice sounded in both Spock and Jim's ears. "I can't understand you. What's going on again?"

Jim looked at Spock in confusion. Bones must've accidentally tapped his disk and activated the speaker on it again. But the more he listened, the more he became convinced the surly doctor had very intentionally turned his communicator disk on so that Jim and Spock would know something was amiss.

"Easy there, Chris," McCoy said over the disks. "It's gonna be okay. Just take a breath and tell me what you can."

Jim frowned. Christine Chapel had nerves of steel. If Bones was telling her to calm down, something was seriously wrong.

"You're breakin' up," they heard Bones say worriedly. "What's this about an attack?"

Spock stood. "Gentlemen," he said to the council, "It would appear there are issues we must attend to at one of the medical posts. If you will excuse the captain and myself?"

The Celosian leaders nodded and Jim rose to leave with Spock when they heard a thunderous crash outside the council building. Everyone in the room felt the impact and voices started to call out in panic. Jim looked at Spock in confusion as the universal translators were unable to keep pace with the questions and exclamations from the Celosians.

"Everyone stay calm," Jim advised loudly, his instincts kicking in. "Help me," he demanded from Spock and several others as he attempted to flip the large table they had just been seated at moments before. Judging by the sounds of screams and weapons firing that they could hear outside the door to the room they were in, they were going to need as many barriers as they could create and quickly. Luckily Spock and several of the Celosians understood what Jim was trying to do. Loose furniture was propped against the massive doors to the chamber while beings gathered behind the table, and those who had phasers drew them, ready to fight back as the sounds of chaos seemed to move ever closer to them.

"Jim!" Hearing Bones shout in his ear startled the captain for a moment.

"What?" he asked softly because the entire room had grown quiet as they'd all listened for the impending danger coming their way.

"It's Klingons!"

Jim groaned. Of course it would be Klingons.

* * *

McCoy felt like he was herding cats – herding cats in a heat that gave Georgia summers a run for their credits. Not to mention he was wielding a phaser, which had to be one of his least favorite parts of being a Starfleet officer. As Uhura watched him run around the partially-unpacked medical post and corral the mix of humans, Celosians, and other beings to safety, she did her best to offer covering fire, knowing how much the good doctor disliked inflicting harm on others, even if the others were Klingons. As he got within earshot of her and she could hear the colorful and graphic curses tumbling out of his mouth, she was of a mind that an angry McCoy was just what the Klingons needed to figure out they shouldn't mess with Starfleet.

Satisfied that he'd gotten everyone to cover, McCoy turned to join Uhura in the shrubs where she had hidden away when disruptor fire grazed his upper arm. He dropped to his knees in pain and Uhura crept out of her hiding place to get a better view of the shooter. But before she got to the clearing where the medical post had been started, McCoy whirled around, his phaser locked on his assailant. He stunned the Klingon without a moment's hesitation, before getting to his feet and heading over to the stunned body. There was something about the look on his face that prompted Nyota to continue moving towards the glade.

"Len, what is it?" she asked him under her breath as he stood over the body of his attacker. Neither of them were certain this was the sole attacker. And before McCoy could answer her, the air was filled with more discharges from Klingon disruptors. Both crew members jumped behind a crate. McCoy loomed over Uhura, foolishly trying to keep her safe when they both knew she was the better shot.

Their concerns were in vain though because the area was filled with the sounds of returning fire and a thick brogue boomed out.

"Aye, take that, ye scoundrels. That'll teach yeh to speak ill of the Enterprise," Scotty yelled as he and a handful of redshirts rushed into the clearing where the medical post had been partially assembled.

McCoy and Uhura got to their feet, dusting themselves off, as the Scotsman ambled over to them, pleased with himself for leading the charge on the Klingons who had threatened his friends. The three officers could only hope their peers had fared as well.

The redshirts with Scotty fanned out to collect the unconscious Klingons and restrain them before they awoke.

"Sir!" one of the ensigns called out in confusion. McCoy moved to the young crewman.

"I know," he said curtly. "Let me handle this one."

"What is it?" Uhura asked, remembering how furrowed McCoy's brow had been as he stood over the same body – the one he had stunned.

She and Scotty joined McCoy and the young security team member. Together, all four crewmen looked down at the unconscious form lying on the ground at their feet.

"But how?" Uhura asked softly. It wasn't the first time they'd seen something like this – they knew there were Klingons that could pass for humans. But this one looked so much different from even the "human" Klingons.

"That's a female," Scotty mused.

"Not just a female Klingon," McCoy replied. "She's way too small to be a Klingon – even one of the altered ones." His words confirmed Uhura's own suspicions.

"But sir, if she's not a Klingon…," the redshirt started timidly.

"She's human…or at least humanoid," McCoy explained as he knelt down and removed her helmet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be some mention of past non-consensual sexual assault. I will not give graphic details but just know that it's there and I'll do my best to warn readers when those chapters come. Also, it's Klingons so there's some violence but I am not one for graphic descriptions of gore. If you read something and wish there had been a tag for it, let me know. I'm still getting the hang of tags and warnings and welcome advice on how to ensure no one gets offended. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks before the Klingon attack on Celos-D42

" _I am ready for this, Father_ ," Jokusho Morc said defiantly, her chest puffed out.

" _You have much to prove to the House, tiny one_." Hus Morc eyed his daughter with a mix of skepticism and condescension.

She winced at the sobriquet. It was not used affectionately among the members of House Morc and she resented it every time she heard it, even from someone like her father, whom she would never retaliate against for calling her tiny. Many others in the House knew from painful experience that the same could not be said for those who teased her about her diminutive size in comparison with the average Klingon.

" _She will slow us down_ ," Gradogh, the oldest of Hus's sons argued. He glared at Jokusho. If he had his way, she would've been killed or abandoned on a hostile planet two years ago. The fact that he would take over House Morc upon Hus's death was not lost on Jokusho and she never forgot how precarious her place was. It was part of why she was arguing to be allowed in the next raid as a fighter. If left to her own devices, Jokusho would prefer to avoid raids. But she knew her only hope of survival was to win Gradogh's grudging respect and to do that, she needed to hold her own in the upcoming raid on the Celosians.

" _Brother, you judge our sister too harshly_ ," Drel'ak, the son closest to Jokusho's age replied. " _She offers us something other than strength in battle, as you well know_."

" _She is not our sister_ ," Gradogh snarled at his younger brother, moving towards the other Klingon in a menacing manner. " _And her skills in science will mean nothing during the actual raid. Let her stay back at the camp with the other scientists. Or don't let her come at all – that would be best."_

" _I said nothing about her scientific abilities. She is clever. Surely we could use a bit of cunning if Starfleet is in fact sending their flagship to the planet to assist in recovery efforts_." Drel'ak was accustomed to his hot-headed older brother's grandstanding, especially as it applied to their youngest sibling.

" _The last thing we need is her anywhere near Starfleet swine. We can hardly trust her as is_ ," Gradogh replied with a glower at the family member in question. Jokusho met his angry glare with her own death-stare. He made it so easy for her to hate him and so hard for her to want his respect. But the House would be his and every day, she was reminded that Hus was growing older. He would not be able to ensure her safety forever.

" _Enough_ ," Hus admonished his eldest and while Gradogh's eyes still flashed, he stood down. This was not the first time his father had made him desist when it came to Jokusho. Hus gave Jokusho a hard look. " _If I agree to your presence in the raiding party, you must not let us down_."

" _Not like last time_ ," Gradogh spat. His father ignored the interruption while Jokusho felt her cheeks flame.

" _You will not get a third chance to prove yourself_ ," Hus cautioned his daughter, the threat in his words equally clear.

" _Understood_ ," she replied, holding Hus's gaze. " _You will not regret letting me join the raid. I will make the House proud_."

Gradogh snorted while Hus considered her words. Slowly he nodded at her. " _Work with your brothers and House Mvalmiki on finalizing plans_."

With a curt nod to his sons, he left the room. Gradogh spun on his heel and rushed after his father, no doubt to make more arguments against allowing Jokusho on the raid but they all knew the decision would not be reversed. Gradogh would just have to hope she failed this upcoming mission.

Jokusho looked over to Drel'ak. " _He will not rest till I am cast out_ ," she said bitterly to her brother.

Drel'ak came over and placed a hand on her shoulder. " _He will come around. You will be successful in this raid and he will start to see your worth_."

Jokusho gave him a wry smile. Drel'ak was ever the optimist. She hoped he was right.

* * *

" _We cannot let her live to return from Celos_ ," Gradogh muttered to his best friend and confidant, Ovic Mvalmiki.

" _Don't worry. Jokusho has set her own date of death by asking to be allowed to join the raid_ ," Ovic replied. " _Hers will not be an honorable death_."

Gradogh gave his friend an appreciative look. He knew, of all people, he could count on Ovic to assist him in getting rid of Jokusho. After all, the greater part of his hate for his youngest sibling was a direct result of Ovic's failed relationship with Jokusho.

" _We must be careful_ ," Gradogh warned his friend. " _Father will suspect foul play if we are not._ "

" _Leave it to me_ ," Ovic reassured Gradogh.

* * *

" _I want you to watch out for your sister during the raid_ ," Hus demanded Drel'ak, as though the younger man had not already resolved to keep Jokusho safe while they were on Celos-D42.

" _Of course_ ," he responded.

" _I mean it. I do not trust Gradogh and Ovic together. They feed off of one another_." Hus sighed wearily. " _They will have their sights set on ruining Jokusho's chances of success on the mission_."

" _If you are so sure of sabotage, why do you not intercede_?" Drel-ak asked his father, curious as to why he would allow Jokusho to walk into such a trap.

" _I cannot protect her forever. Jokusho must prove herself just as anyone else_."

" _But this is not just like any of the rest of us. The tide has been against her from the beginning_ ," Drel'ak argued.

" _Yes. And she has not always helped her case_ ," Hus replied, tiredly. The very things he loved most about his youngest child were the same things that made it so difficult for her to blend in with the rest of the Klingons in their alliance. What had transpired between her and Ovic was unfortunate and had tipped the scales, perhaps irrevocably, against her. Her first raid had done nothing to help. He knew his youngest had been training rigorously since that failed first attempt to fight and she was a very different person now than she had been back then, for better or worse. Hus sat down with a heavy thud. He sometimes wondered if he had made the right decision bringing her into his family, all those years ago. He knew, if he died right then, Jokusho would be as good as dead too. She needed to gain back some goodwill among the community.

" _She is stubborn, fiercely loyal, honorable…and yet, because she is not those things in the 'right way,' everyone has given up on her_ ," Drel'ak complained. " _Why can they not see what you, Mother, Astori, myself – what those of us who care for her can see_?"

" _We each see what we want to see_ ," Hus replied. " _She is an outsider and some will never see beyond that_." He gave his younger son a shrewd look. " _But it does not matter what our neighbors choose to see in her. What matters is you must keep her safe in the raid. And if you cannot, you must ensure she winds up in Federation hands and not your brother's_."

Drel'ak stared at his father. " _I would never give her up to Starfleet_ ," he replied, horrified at the idea.

Hus stood up with such force, the chair he'd been sitting in fell back with a thud.

" _You must! Swear to me now. If the raid goes badly and you think your brother or Ovic will make a move against Jokusho, you will make sure she ends up in Starfleet's hands. They will keep her alive and safe which is more than Gradogh will do_."

" _But_  –"

" _There is no objection. Do it or you will find yourself cast out with your little sister. You know I speak the truth. I will not be able to save either of you if the mission is not a success. And your brother is too blinded by his anger to understand that endangering the mission just to get back at his sister is a greater folly than allowing her to live peaceably among our kind_."

Drel'ak stared at his father. He knew Hus spoke the truth. But the idea of handing Jokusho over to Starfleet in an attempt to keep her safe was repugnant. Sure, Starfleet didn't kill their prisoners. But how would Jokusho survive among them? Would they ship her off to some prison planet? She would rather be dead, honorably or not. Suddenly, Drel'ak was wishing he hadn't advocated so heartily for his sister's inclusion in the raiding mission.

" _I swear to do everything I can to keep Jokusho fron harm_ ," he said to his father.

" _Including_?" Hus was no fool. He'd stayed alive this long due to his cunning. All Klingons were strong – not all were as smart as Hus Morc.

" _Including turning her over to Starfleet, if need be_ ," Drel'ak sighed unhappily.

* * *

" _I would rather kill myself_ ," Jokusho swore as Drel'ak relayed his conversation with their father to her.

" _I figured as much. So what do we do_?"

He watched as his sister whirled around the room, grabbing supplies in a blur. She was about to attend yet another battle simulation – she attended at least one a day and had been doing so for a little over a year in preparation for this moment. Jokusho was determined to make it through a raid successfully. Because so much was riding on this raid, she was a ball of emotions but even in that state, she was still smarter than most people Drel'ak knew.

" _We make sure Gradogh and Ovic never have the chance to set their plan into motion_ ," she replied.

Drel'ak stared at her as he processed her words. " _How_?" he finally asked.

" _We take them out before they can take us out_ ," she answered grimly.

" _What? How can you_  –"

" _Easily. You would make a better head of the House than Gradogh anyway. Tell me I'm not right._ " Jokusho had stopped darting around the room and turned to make eye contact with Drel'ak. He remained silent.

" _If I kill them before they kill me, we ensure House Morc remains the strong leader of this community and I avenge myself for what happened with Ovic_."

For someone so given to emotions, Jokusho often surprised Drel'ak with her moments of dispassionate rationalizations. Gradogh loved to complain that Jokusho would never be a great warrior but here she was, cold-bloodedly plotting the deaths of her oldest brother and former parmaqqay without any qualms. Drel'ak didn't know too many warriors who could calculate the deaths of others with the same detachment Jokusho had. A lot had changed since her first, disastrous foray into Klingon war-fare.

" _Look, I won't stand in your way_ ," Drel'ak finally replied. " _But what if your plan doesn't work and what if Gradogh and Ovic succeed with their plot_?" He didn't want to think about it but they needed to have an option ready for if the worst-case scenario occurred.

" _Then do the honorable thing and kill me_ ," Jokusho replied, almost flippantly, but one look at her eyes told Drel'ak she was completely serious.

She approached him and placed her hand on his shoulder. " _Death by your hand would be a better end than anything Gradogh and Ovic will dream up and I will not spend my life rotting away in a Starfleet prison. I'll kill myself before that happens_."

Drel'ak clasped his hand to Jokusho's shoulder. " _Do what you can to prevent me from having to end your life, sister. It is a choice that would haunt me_."

The siblings held their stance for a moment, a deep understanding of the lengths each would go to in order to protect the other flowing between them.

Later, by herself, Jokusho closed her eyes, thinking back to a time when Gradogh hadn't hated her as much as he did now. Sure, he'd never been very fond of her but there had been a time, not all that long ago, when he'd still considered her family. Damn Ovic. He was the source of so many of her problems. She would never forgive him for what had happened and the thought of killing him was oddly soothing. Taking another's life wasn't something Jokusho relished, though she'd done it before. Ovic though. Well, not only would she not regret his death, she'd actually be upset if she wasn't the one to end him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have taken the liberty of differentiating between parmaqqay and spouse for the purposes of this story. I understand they are considered the same thing in Klingon society but it made this story easier to have them mean something slightly different. I look at it like this - Klingons were not a completely unified society and perhaps there would be pockets where a parmaqqay would differ from a spouse - would be more of a union for political benefit. This would be one of those pockets.


	3. Chapter 3

"Wait, what?" Jim asked over the communicator in his hand.

"One of the Klingons we rounded up is actually human," McCoy repeated with a surprising amount of patience, all things considered.

"How do you know? You sure she isn't just one of the Klingons that looks human?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, I thought about that already, Jim," McCoy retorted, much less kindly. "Scanned her myself and the scans confirm she's human. She was born within Federation space – has a Federation ID number and everything. I'm waiting on further information because they knocked the power grid out. We'll know more when Scotty gets the communication links back up and running."

"Huh," Jim replied, processing the information. "But she attacked you? And she's in full Klingon armor?"

"My God, man, do I have to repeat everything for you?" McCoy asked in exasperation. "I've got more patients than beds out here and the Klingons we stunned aren't gonna wake up for another couple of hours. Can I get back to being a doctor now?"

McCoy ended the comm before Jim had a chance to answer and the captain didn't take too much offense. He knew Bones had his hands full. Still, he made a note to himself to get over to the medical post around the time the Klingon prisoners would be waking up. He wanted to see this human anomaly for himself.

In the meantime, he walked over to Spock.

"Let's take a look at the damage," he said and Spock nodded, following him out of the council hall and into the city streets. The attack had been quelled for the time being but Jim was worried the Klingons would be back with reinforcements and the city had already been in a state of disrepair from the quakes. Best to quickly survey what additional damage had been inflicted by the Klingon bombs and then regroup with other members of the Enterprise crew afterward.

As he and Spock walked the city, taking readings on their tricorders and notes on their PADDs, Jim looked over at the Vulcan.

"So, you and Uhura are…" he trailed off, waiting for Spock to finish the sentence.

"Still not together, Jim. Just as you asked me last time," Spock said with just the slightest edge to his voice.

"But things seem friendly enough between you…" Jim replied with as much optimism as he could muster.

Spock didn't sigh, because to do so would be a display of unnecessary emotion. Instead, he lifted a single brow.

"I do not know what else you would expect. We are both fully capable of working together and remaining companionable."

"Spock, it's normal after a break-up for one or both people to experience some awkwardness around each other. You can come to me if you're having a difficult time coping," Jim said carefully. He knew how reserved Spock could be but his first officer had been off since Uhura had ended the relationship. Jim knew Spock had been blindsided by the second separation, believing that Altimid, and his choice to stay on the Enterprise, had fixed any issues with Uhura.

"I assure you, there is no awkwardness and I have no need to discuss my former relationship with you," Spock retorted, coming painfully close to displaying at least one emotion. He composed himself and continued. "I do not think I will ever fully understand the human need to discuss every emotion. It is a compulsion that seems all too prevalent amongst the Enterprise crew."

Jim smiled. "It's called bonding, Spock."

"An illogical practice, " Spock responded.

There were times when Jim didn't blame Uhura for leaving his his First Officer. This was one of them.

* * *

She woke up angry. Of course the raid had gone sideways. And while she knew the blame for what went wrong lay with Ovic, she'd be more than happy to kill every last member of Starfleet she could get her hands on. Of course, doing so wouldn't bring Drel'ak or Hus back. Nothing would bring them back. But killing might make her feel a little better. Her desire to end Ovic was now at a fever pitch but he would surround himself with guards. And doubtless, he had again told Gradogh lies about what had happened. She would likely have to kill her oldest brother or be killed by him. Which was fine because she hated Gradogh. What kind of an idiot would believe a man like Ovic over his own family? An idiot named Gradogh. They knew she wanted them dead. Ovic now sported a new scar from her attempt to take his life. She'd been so close to succeeding. Jokusho cursed as she thought about her failure to kill him when she'd had the chance.

Without enough bio-monitors, McCoy was only alerted to the woman's conscious state by the angry Klingon she was muttering in her biobed.

"Uhura, she's awake," he called out to the communications officer.

Nyota met McCoy by the side of the female human's bed. The woman stared at both officers with eyes full of distrust as she continued her string of curses under her breath.

" _We have no intention of hurting you_ ," Nyota began in nearly flawless Klingon. Since their visit to Qo'noS to retrieve John Harrison, Nyota had made learning the various dialects of Klingon her top priority. Turned out all that work was paying off. " _We just want to know who you are and why you and your friends attacked Celos_."

" _Why would I believe a word you say_?" Jokusho shot back.

" _You're alive aren't you? And besides being stunned, you've suffered no other physical harm, right_?" Nyota stared at the other woman unflinchingly, treating her as though she was as Klingon as the next being. Jokusho felt a grudging respect for the woman speaking to her. She had assumed none of the Starfleet officers would be able to speak Klingon, let alone understand subtle nuances like the importance of eye contact when challenging another.

" _What happens now_?" she asked the woman. " _Do you take me to a prison planet somewhere to rot away in a cell_?"

" _Not necessarily_ ," Uhura replied. " _If you help us, we are more likely to try reintegrating you into human society_."

Jokusho snorted. " _Why would I ever want that_?"

" _Everyone knows Klingons aren't supposed to be captured. If we release you to the group you came here with, they're likely to kill you. Is that what you want_?"

The two women stared each other down. Uhura had a point and she knew it. But Jokusho would not let the other woman know how close she was to the truth. McCoy finally broke the silence.

"Look, are you telling her we need her help to save some of her fellow raiders?" he asked Uhura impatiently. "Because if she's not willing to help me with some anatomy questions, they're gonna die and I'll be damned if I let that happen on my watch."

Jokusho looked over at the man. Something about him – perhaps the combination of his irritation and compassion – it touched a chord in her.

"What do you need from me?" she asked him in Standard.

"Oh good, she speaks Standard," he huffed at no one in particular. "Coulda saved a lot of time if I'd known that sooner."

"You did not ask me what languages I spoke," Jokusho pointed out. "I can indeed speak Standard. Now what is this about my House mates?"

McCoy began telling her about several prisoners with medical issues ranging from phaser and disruptor burns to more complicated heart concerns. Accompanied by two security team members, Jokusho made the rounds with McCoy, offering him pertinent anatomical information for each patient. Jokusho had never studied medicine, but she knew enough about Klingon anatomy and physiology to be useful to the doctor as he attempted to patch up the wounded Klingons. He noted that the conversations she had with several of the other prisoners seemed less than friendly. In one particularly heated exchange, he moved over to Nyota.

"What're they sayin' to each other?" he whispered to his colleague.

"Nothing good," she whispered back before elaborating in a soft voice. "He's calling her a traitor for assisting you in saving their lives. Says it would be more honorable for them all to die rather than be assisted back to health by Starfleet. She's arguing back that this way, they have a chance to escape and regroup with the rest of the raiders. Earlier, one of them told her the death of her father and brother were on her head and that he knew allowing her on this raid was a mistake."

"She lost her father and brother in all this?" McCoy looked at Uhura with surprise.

"Apparently," Nyota replied, nodding her head sadly.

"Does that mean there were other humans on this raid, helping the Klingons?" McCoy asked, as Jokusho continued to argue with one of the bedridden Klingons she'd helped save.

"I don't think so," Nyota replied. "From the context, it sounded like her father was the head of the House – the leader of this raid. I'm guessing he was her adoptive father."

"I didn't know Klingons were into adopting humans," McCoy said softly.

"Me either," Nyota agreed. They both stood quietly for a moment, taking in the scene of the human woman arguing with her Klingon colleague.

"She really thinks they're gonna escape and regroup with the other Klingons?" McCoy stage-whispered to Uhura.

"Apparently," Nyota answered but before she could continue, Jim and Spock appeared at the medical post.

"Is that her?" Jim asked the other two officers once he'd made his way over to them. "That's the human you found fighting with the Klingons?"

McCoy nodded as Jokusho and the wounded Klingon continued to bicker. Klingons in beds near them began to add their own comments to the argument.

"Am I crazy or are they all arguing right now? I mean, I know Klingon is a pretty guttural language but this seems beyond the normal chitchat," Jim commented to Nyota.

"You are crazy, but not about this," she replied with a hint of a smile. "They're definitely arguing."

Quickly, she and McCoy filled Jim in on what had transpired since the stunned woman and her "friends" had woken. Jim made a note to tell Hendorff to send more guards to the medical post.

"I think we need to put an end to this," Nyota whispered to the two men as she listened to the escalating insults being tossed about by the Klingons and their human counterpart. "Someone's liable to get hurt if we let them keep yelling at each other."

"I'll handle this," McCoy grumbled. "Why don't you two go find out from Scotty how much longer we're gonna have to wait for the communications links to get reestablished? I'd like to know more about our mystery woman here but I doubt I'm gonna find out much as long as the links are down."

"Why don't you use some of that Southern charm on her?" Jim asked with a half-smile. "Anything you say can't be worse than whatever they're yelling at each other right now." He gestured to the arguing Klingons.

McCoy scowled but nodded. Great. Now he had to break up a fight AND get this wildling to talk? He hated this planet.

Jim and Uhura said their goodbyes and took off towards where they could hear Scotty hollering at Keenser for whatever reason.

McCoy stepped into the Klingon fray and pulled Jokusho away from the bed.

"I think you've had enough conversation with your mates for now," he told an irate Jokusho. She allowed him to pull her away though she continued to lob insults at the Klingons heckling her. Not all of them were against her – there were several who were defending her and her family's honor. But the majority opposed her and she was fairly certain she would face harassment, perhaps death if she returned with the Klingons back to Boreth, the home world of House Morc. Her only chance at a life amongst her former neighbors would be to kill Ovic and Gradogh and even then, she may not be safe. McCoy gently pulled her to his makeshift office and she offered little resistance. She had known this mission was a huge risk. But facing the reality of a life in exile hurt more than she had expected. When they reached the office, he directed her to take a seat across from him at an improvised desk made up of shipping bins. From somewhere, the doctor procured a bottle of dark liquid and poured two glasses.

McCoy was reluctant to share his precious stash, especially with someone who had chosen to align herself with the Klingons, but if he could get her talking, it would be worth it, he supposed.

"Drink," he commanded her as he grabbed one of the glasses and pushed the other towards her. "Sounds like you might need this as much as I do, if not more."

Jokusho grabbed the glass and sniffed at it, intrigued by the sharp, almost woodsy scent. "What is this?" she asked with just a hint of suspicion. She watched as the doctor took a sip and exhaled deeply.

"Nectar of the gods," he replied with his eyes closed. He opened them and looked directly at her. "It's bourbon. And good stuff, too. None of that replicated bullshit. Now drink. Doctor's orders. It'll take the edge off the day."

Jokusho found his accent hard to understand and some of the phrases he used didn't make sense to her but she understood enough to know she needed to drink what he'd given her. So she took a gulp.

"Not all at once!" McCoy cautioned her as he waited for her to start coughing and spitting out the considerable amount of bourbon she'd swallowed. But no coughing occurred and she licked her lips in satisfaction.

"That's quite good," she practically purred and McCoy was struck by the fact that without her armor, which had been removed while she was passed out, she was really very striking. The minute he'd pulled her helmet off, he'd realized she was the worst kind of trouble. She had thick, black hair that came to her shoulders. Her skin was an olive-tone and he suspected her heritage to be perhaps Middle Eastern or Indian. Her large eyes, which were framed by long, dark lashes, were a deep brown – almost black. Average height but her body was muscular in a way that few women's were. She was beautiful and he wanted nothing to do with her. No good came from gorgeous women – McCoy had learned that lesson the hard way once. But he knew he needed to get as much information out of her as he could to relay to Jim and the others. And it was better for him to be questioning her than Jim. The captain would undoubtedly flirt with her and the last thing McCoy needed was Jim getting entangled with a woman who thought Klingons were people she should take up arms with.

"So, do you have a name?" he asked her, wondering if she'd be willing to talk. Hopefully the bourbon would loosen her tongue because he had questions – lots of them. Just in case, he poured just a little more bourbon in her glass.

"Jokusho of House Morc," she replied. "And who are you?" She downed the drink once more, then let out a sigh of satisfaction that was almost sensual.

"Leonard McCoy, CMO of the USS Enterprise. Shoulda done introductions earlier, I suppose."

"It isn't as though you had anything else on your mind," Jokusho replied with a slight smile. "I believe your prisoners will live."

He winced slightly when she called the patients prisoners and she noticed. "What? You prefer a different word? Captives? Hostages? Detainees?" she asked.

"I don't think of my patients as anything other than patients, regardless of what they've done or which side they're on," McCoy replied gravely. "My job is keeping everyone alive. Someone else can figure out what to do with my patients once I release them."

She studied him thoughtfully before responding.

"An interesting view," Jokusho said quietly. "Do you ever worry that you have sentenced your patients to something worse than death?"

"Can't say that I do. Most of 'em are happy to be alive." McCoy folded his hands behind his head. "Not that I don't love a good philosophical debate, but you mind if I change the subject?"

As relaxed as the bourbon had made her, Jokusho was still very much aware of the fact that she was in this encampment against her will.

"Do I have a choice?" she challenged the man across from her.

He dropped his hands down and leaned forward.

"'Course you've got a choice. You don't want to talk, I'm happy to let you leave," McCoy replied.

"And if I leave this office, where exactly do I go at that point?" she asked, still suspicious despite his earnest reply.

"Where do you want to go?" he shot back at her. "Look, you seem to be under the impression that we're gonna put you in a cage. No one's locking you up. You can go where you want within our encampment, as long as someone from the crew is with you."

"I shot at your crew members!" she yelled at McCoy unexpectedly, standing up. "I probably killed people you know!" Her eyes were flashing and her cheeks grew pink as she spoke. McCoy remained seated, though his eyes darted to the phaser lying on his desk, just a few centimeters from his hand. Now wasn't a time for snappy come-backs or rash actions so he responded calmly as though she weren't looking half-wild in front of him.

"Yeah, and when we leave this planet, we'll take you to a station somewhere near here and Starfleet will question you and your co-conspirators. The Klingon Empire will be contacted and negotiations will be made for your return to them, if that's what they want. If not, there might be a trial in a Federation court, given how much damage y'all inflicted. But no harm will come to you while you're in Starfleet hands. For now, we're all stuck here together so let's try to make the best of things while there's nothing else to be done, alright?"

McCoy was exasperated with Jokusho even while trying to be understanding of her unease with the situation. Hell, he was uneasy with it too. It's not like he wanted to have a bunch of Klingons and one angry human to look after in addition to everything else on his plate. No one had made any move to harm the woman since she'd woken up. He didn't expect a "thank you" for that but he also didn't want her screaming at him about killing his crew mates. Even if McCoy personally thought the best place for her and her friends was a prison planet far away from him, that wasn't how Starfleet worked. The Klingons and their human accomplice would get due process under galactic laws.

Jokusho sat down slowly, dropped her eyes from his, and stared at her lap for a moment. He watched as she took several deep breaths.

"What did you want to talk about, Doctor?" she finally addressed him, raising her eyes to meet his again. Gone was the frenzied look she'd worn just moments ago. In its place was a placid, perhaps resigned expression. Her cheeks were no longer blazing either.

Well, if that wasn't the damnedest response he'd ever seen. She and Spock should get to know one another – they could exchange secrets of emotional control. Still, he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to ask her more questions.

"How long have you been living with Klingons?" he asked her cautiously.

"I believe I was six standard years old when my father found me," she replied. "By my calculations, that would make it 25 standard years."

If her estimate was correct, she was only three years younger than him. Interesting.

"You're not certain how old you were when your father found you?"

"No," she began, pausing a moment before continuing. "I had been on my own for some time before he ran across me." She smiled at a memory. "He told me I was practically feral when he first saw me."

"You don't remember meeting him?" McCoy asked, alarms going off in his mind. At age six, she should have been able to remember meeting her adoptive father. And who the hell smiled about being told they were half-feral?

She narrowed her eyes at him, growing suspicious of the line of questioning. "I do not think about the time before House Morc. My memories of that time are full of hunger and desperation." There was a sharp edge to her words.

"How did he find you?" McCoy asked as gently as he could, deciding it wasn't worth the risk of angering her to pursue her limited memories of the time before Klingons took her in.

"I was in an alley he passed by on his way to grab a meal," she replied, seemingly unbothered by the change in topic. "My parents had abandoned me and Hus took me in."

"Where did they abandon you? I'm not too familiar with any place where both Klingons and humans can be found living near one another."

She gave him a look. "He found me on a trade run. I don't remember what planet it was. His ship broke down and he made it to the closest planet for repairs. That's where he found me. Hus was bothered by the thought of someone so young – even a human – being left to their own defenses so he adopted me."

McCoy felt a fair amount of skepticism over the story she was telling him but after her earlier outburst, he decided not to press his luck. As soon as Scotty got the com link working, he'd be able to verify her story against Federation records. They could have a conversation then about the reality of her "adoption" by Klingons.

"You speak pretty good Standard for someone who's been living with Klingons for most her life," he mused.

"I watch a lot of holovids and read a lot of PADD articles in Standard. Converse in it when I have the opportunity," she replied. "My father thought it wise for me to maintain my Standard, as a tool for when we had to deal with Starfleet or the Federation."

"That so, huh? Wouldn't trust Klingons farther than I can throw 'em and now I find out y'all are recruitin' humans to do your dirty work. Whole universe is going to hell in a handbasket," McCoy drawled, almost more to himself than her, before taking a sip of his bourbon and Jokusho furrowed her brows at him.

"I must admit, I have not spoken to someone with your kind of accent before now," she admitted. "I find some of your phrases difficult to understand."

McCoy chuckled. "I'll bet you do," he agreed.

She stifled a yawn.

"Tired?" McCoy asked her.

Jokusho blushed. "Yes," she replied.

"We don't have anything better to offer you right now than the bed you woke up in. Never got to finish setting up camp," McCoy answered, omitting the reason for the unfinished nature of the medical outpost.

"I don't mind the bed," Jokusho responded. "If you need it for someone else, I am perfectly capable of sleeping on the ground."

"We're not that hard up yet," McCoy retorted and she gave him a confused look. He clarified. "Take the bed. We don't need it for anyone else right now."

Without trying to make it seem mandatory, McCoy walked Jokusho out of his office and back to the cot she'd found herself on. It felt like days since she'd woken up and yet, it had only been a couple of hours.

"Right now, you're full of sedatives and muscle relaxers," he cautioned her as she stretched out on the cot. "Tomorrow, when you wake up, you're probably not gonna feel too great. Just take it easy and come find me if you're nauseous, okay?"

She nodded at him and they both ignored the two redshirts stationed a stone's throw away from her cot.

Once McCoy left, Jokusho was alone, but not really. She knew the redshirts were there to stop her if she tried to escape. And while a part of her longed to run away and leave all of it behind – the Klingons, Starfleet – everything – a bigger part of her knew she couldn't leave till she'd completed what she set out to do that morning – she would not leave till Ovic and Gradogh were dead or captured. In the meantime, curled into a ball on her cot, her back to the security guards, she allowed herself to shed tears for both Drel'ak and her father. She missed both of them palpably. For not the first time, she regretted ever asking to come along on the raid. If she had stayed behind, maybe Ovic and Gradogh wouldn't have tried to sabotage the raid and Hus and Drel'ak would still be alive. She knew she shouldn't mourn their deaths – they had died in battle and there was nothing more glorious than an honorable death during conflict. But even while she understood they had moved on to a better place, she felt their absence in the pit of her stomach. If death really was so glorious, then why did it hurt so much for the ones left behind?


	4. Chapter 4

The Klingon raid on Celos-D42

This time would be different. Jokusho would not allow an incident like the last time. When she beamed down from the ship with Drel'ak and her party of soldiers, she had her disruptor rifle armed and ready. In the distance, she could hear the sounds of weapons firing already. Hus, Gradogh, and Ovic were with their own parties – as male members of their Houses, each had taken their own squad. Drel'ak, per her father's orders, would stay with Jokusho. The men surrounding her were now their responsibility and she intended to do everything within her power to see them succeed. She knew Drel'ak would do the same.

Any Klingon could tell you that the key to a good raid was the element of surprise. And surprise didn't last long when you had wave after wave of Klingons beaming down to the planet. Starfleet was filled with inferior fighters but they would be able to comm one another with the news that strikes were occurring. Which was why Jokusho's unit was responsible for taking out the communications links. They knew Starfleet would have them back up and running in a day's time but by then, it would be too late.

Her team acted quickly, taking out anyone with a Starfleet uniform and a handful of Celosians as well. They had been beamed down five meters away from the temporary comm station and it didn't take them long to reach their target. Once they'd used grenades to disable the com link, they moved to integrate themselves with their fellow raiders. Jokusho felt a swell of pride in both her troops and herself. So far, this raid was going according to plan.

Jokusho, and subsequently, Drel'ak, had volunteered for the com link squad because it was meant to regroup with Ovic's squad. Hus would be taking the capital city and Gradogh was across the planet leading squads with several of their cousins and Astori's husband. It was the perfect opportunity for Jokusho to kill Ovic and blame his death on friendly fire or on the enemy if she was really lucky.

As they merged with Ovic's group and moved towards the Starfleet encampments closest to the capital city, Jokusho kept an eye on Ovic. She needed to time things right so that she fired at him during a moment when most of the others would be distracted. Ideally, she hoped they would run into more Starfleet crew members and Kahless himself must have been smiling on her because they found a group of almost twenty members of Starfleet and a firefight broke out between the outnumbered redshirts and the Klingons. The sounds of fighting drew more Starfleet officers and Jokusho heard one of the men try to reason with a Klingon warrior.

"Ach, surely we can come to an agreement here. I know you don't want to start a fight with the crew of the Enterprise. Tis a suicide mission, that," the man said and his accent was something Jokusho had never heard before.

"Enterprise nothing more than rust-bucket with weak crew and feeble captain," the Klingon snarled in return. Several of the men fighting knew enough Standard to get by and many more knew enough to string together insults and curses, which they would lob at their enemies regardless of what the enemy was saying in return. It was an effective way of provoking rash and stupid responses.

"Take that back," the Starfleet officer said heatedly. "I'll not have you slander such a fine ship."

"Enterprise slow like your mom in bed," the Klingon taunted once more, enjoying the chance to anger his enemy before killing him.

"First of all, me mum is 80 years old so I think it's a wee bit more of a joke on you that yer sleepin' wi' her," Scotty replied. "But yeh say one more thing about my ship and I'll have your eyes."

"Enterprise nacelles like flaccid penises," retorted the Klingon. Jokusho rolled her eyes. Penis humor was too easy. She expected better of her brethren.

"Alright, laddies," the man with the funny accent said to the other Starfleet crew around him. "We gave 'em a fair chance. No one speaks ill of my ship and gets away wi' it."

With that, a firefight of phasers and disruptors broke out and Jokusho realized this was her moment. Almost everyone was fighting. She looked for Ovic and found him….standing right next to Drel'ak, his d'k'tagh drawn. He was staring directly at her, had obviously been waiting for her to look at him and when their eyes met, he grabbed Drel'ak and slit his throat, a chilling smile on his face. Her brother never saw it coming.

The sound that Jokusho made as she watched Drel'ak fall to the ground was unlike any she had ever made before. Raw and filled with rage, she wondered if she would ever stop shrieking. It didn't matter though because she was running towards Ovic and the coward slipped into the crowd, avoiding the confrontation she desired. She reached Drel'ak's fallen body and knelt beside him, oblivious to the sounds of fighting all around them. He wasn't dead yet but purple blood flowed from the gaping wound in his throat and his eyes had taken on a glazed quality.

" _Drel'ak_ ," she begged him as she tried to stop the bleeding. " _Stay with me, please_!"

He was too far gone to offer her more than a grimace. She felt something brush her hand and looked down to see his fingers touching hers. She held his hand and felt him squeeze faintly.

" _I'm so sorry_ ," she whispered, not bothering to hold back her tears. " _I never meant for him to go after you_."

Another faint squeeze. If she had realized the encampment they had stumbled upon had a partially assembled medical post, she would have attempted to bring Drel'ak to the post and beg for assistance. But she wouldn't realize till later that there were doctors and nurses, and much-needed supplies within meters of where she was kneeling with her dying brother.

When he passed, she felt a stillness come over him and some part of her brain realized the odd duality between how peaceful her favorite sibling was in death versus the sheer fury swirling around inside her. Most of her brain, however, was focused on one thing – killing Ovic.

* * *

Hus had run into some complications in his efforts to take control of the capital city. The damage to the city from the quake was more extensive than the images from the drones they'd sent to do reconnaissance had indicated and it took his squad longer to get into the main square. Still, they caused chaos along the way and they'd anticipated a difficult fight with the Celosians in the capital. Controlling the capital city wasn't a goal of the raid anyway, though they certainly wanted the Celosians to think it was. As long as the raiders gave the scientists time and distraction to do what they needed to do, the raid would be considered a success. As he thought about the scientists, he wondered yet again if he had made the right choice in letting Jokusho join with the raiders instead of keeping her with the science team. Her scientific skills were certainly more useful than her ability to fight. But he knew she needed this – needed to prove she was a Klingon warrior.

Having reached something of a stalemate in the city, with dignitaries and others hidden in barricaded buildings, Hus and his troops moved back to regroup with Ovic's force and that of Drel'ak and Jokusho. Hus hoped his youngest daughter had managed to contain her impulses and not made an attempt on Ovic's life, though he also hoped that if she had, she'd succeeded. The fight between Starfleet and the Klingons was still lively at the encampment where Ovic was positioned and Hus, along with his men, joined the fray with enthusiasm. This was much more fun than walking through an empty city, blowing up random edifices.

As the fight progressed and Starfleet was pushed back ever closer to the medical post, Hus caught sight of Jokusho. He'd never seen his daughter like this before. She was ruthless, taking down both friends and opponents with no thought to her own safety, her determined gaze fixed ahead of her. Hus's eyes traveled to where Jokusho was looking and he saw Ovic, who seemed to be doing his best to hide from her. As he looked back to Jokusho, he noticed the purple blood covering her armor. What had happened? Whose blood was that? He looked around for Drel'ak – he'd sworn to protect Jokusho. In the moment, Hus felt like the realization of what had happened took forever to hit him, but the reality was that it took mere seconds for him to piece together that his youngest son was most likely dead, killed by the man Jokusho was cutting a swath through the fighters around her to reach. Hus began to fight his way to his daughter. She moved quickly, her objective singular – to end the life of the man who had caused her so much misery. Ovic reached a rock wall and was effectively pinned down as he was surrounded by Starfleet uniforms on either side of the rock formation. Hus was close enough to Jokusho to call out to her.

There was only one voice that could have stopped her momentum and it was the voice that boomed across the battlefield, calling her name. Jokusho reluctantly stopped and turned to her father.

" _Drel'ak_?" he asked her, the single word containing so much. She nodded and looked to Ovic.

" _I will kill him_ ," she fumed. Hus followed her gaze to the other man and if Ovic had hoped Hus would take his side, he quickly realized he'd been in error. Hus's gaze was filled with loathing.

Hus looked back at his daughter. " _Go ahead_ ," he directed her.

But Ovic had his own agenda. As Jokusho drew her d'k'tagh and began to run towards Ovic, ready to meet the same death upon him that he had inflicted on Drel'ak, Ovic grabbed a phaser from one of the fallen Starfleet ensigns and held it up. Hus winced as he pointed it at Jokusho – he did not want to lose two of his children today. As Jokusho slowed, less than a meter from Ovic, seeing the phaser aimed at her, her ex smiled – a cruel smile – and jerked the phaser away from her, firing instead at Hus. Jokusho watched her father fall to the ground and sprinted to Ovic, her d'k'tagh raised. She didn't care if he shot her down. She ran into him with a brutal thud, knocking the phaser from his hands and dragging her blade across his face.

" _Today is the day you die. You'll awaken on the Barge of the Dead to spend eternity in Gre'Thor_ ," she told him as they wrestled.

" _Today is the day I take over your House_ ," he replied, overpowering her.

Jokusho was ready to face death at his hands – ready to bleed out just as Drel'ak had and as he flipped her over on the ground and straddled her, drawing his d'k'tagh, Jokusho made peace with the way she'd lived her life. She ignored the man sitting on her back, refused to give him the rise he was hoping for. She didn't know if this counted as an honorable death and she didn't care. She'd lost her brother and father in the space of an hour. Her time here was done.

But then, a disruptor shot grazed Ovic's abdomen and he screamed in pain, clutching at his side. Jokusho looked over to see who had fired the weapon and her eyes met her father's. Ovic had merely stunned him, not knowing that the phaser he'd grabbed hadn't been set to kill. He was still alive. Jokusho squirmed away from Ovic, then shoved her feet against him, right where he'd been hit and kicked him before scrambling to her feet. He howled in pain and she ignored him, running instead to her father, who was slowly getting up.

" _You're okay_?" she asked him, looking him up and down.

" _I'm fine_ ," he replied. " _Perhaps too old to continue indulging_ –"

Not every member of Starfleet had left their phasers on stun. Some, seeing the violence of their Klingon enemies, and realizing they were losing ground, had switched their phasers to kill. One security redshirt knew enough about Klingons to know that Hus was wearing armor which indicated his status as a high-ranking House head. And that ensign had taken aim, his shot hitting Hus square on the back. The impact of the blow killed Hus instantly and his lifeless body fell onto Jokusho. She caught him, felt his limpness, and knelt with his lifeless form, frantically checking for a pulse that would not revive. For the second time that day, she was cradling a dead family member. When she looked over to where she'd left Ovic, she saw barren ground. He'd snuck off, doubtless to lick his wounds and regroup with Gradogh.

She would find and kill both of them. As soon as she killed the man who'd shot her father. With that, she ran towards the front lines, disruptor in one hand, d'k'tagh in the other. Jokusho was well beyond rational thought – that train might never return to the station. In its place were anger, aggression, and the need to hurt others the way she was hurt. If someone had been standing still on that battlefield, watching her blaze a furious path to the most intense fighting, they would have seen the poetry in her motions. By Klingon standards, she was too small and too weak to be considered a true warrior. By humanoid standards, she was a whirlwind of death and destruction, firing her disruptor at one victim while slashing through another's shirt and into their chest. Several soldiers around her had seen her fight with Ovic and her father's last stand. They pushed to the front with her, driven on by her bloodlust, hoping that she'd remember their valor when the time for divvying up the raid's bounty occurred. With a group of ten others just behind her, she advanced to the medical post, killing anyone in a Starfleet uniform along her way. She was doing nothing to protect herself and as a phaser shot hit her directly in the chest, she wondered why it had taken so long for someone to finally put her out of her misery.


	5. Chapter 5

"So, what's your take on our Klingon sympathizer?" Jim asked McCoy as they sat across from one another in McCoy's temporary office.

"She claims she was adopted when she was six years old and judging by her comfort with the language and interactions with the others, I'm inclined to believe she's been living with the Klingons for a while," McCoy replied thoughtfully as he swirled the bourbon in his glass and watched how the colors changed when he held his glass to the light.

"But?" Jim prodded him.

"I don't buy that this Klingon, apparently the head of the House leading today's shitshow of a raid, just found her abandoned on some random planet. Something about it doesn't sit right with me." There was a lot about Jokusho that didn't sit right with McCoy but that was neither here nor there.

"Doesn't sit right, how?" Kirk pressed on. He knew Bones like the back of his hand. Knew that he needed to prompt the doctor occasionally in order for the other man to articulate his concerns. Jim knew that McCoy was still formulating his theory and he knew his questions would help Bones arrive at an answer, usually the right one.

"I don't know," sighed McCoy. "There's something off about it but I don't think she's lying. I think she believes she was found, all alone, on a planet she can't remember, by this Klingon who decided to show pity on her because she was so young."

"You think she might have been brainwashed?" Jim guessed.

"Maybe. I've heard about some pretty awful instruments of mental torture that the Klingons use. But she's human – using one of those on her, especially at a young age – at the least, it could've left her with extensive brain damage and at the worst? It woulda killed her."

McCoy hated the idea of a girl no older than his own daughter being strapped down so her memories could be erased or otherwise tampered with. He found himself gripping the armrest of his chair tightly as he imagined it.

"Jim," he said, looking up at his friend and captain as he let go of his chair and flexed his fingers to get the blood circulating again, "What's gonna happen to her when we get off this planet?"

"I don't know," the captain answered truthfully. "We'll take all of them to the nearest Starbase. Hopefully, we'll know more about her by then – maybe we can advocate that she receive a lesser punishment than the rest if we can prove she was forcibly taken from her family as a child and brainwashed into accepting Klingon culture…"

"And if we can't?" McCoy countered.

"She'll serve a similar sentence as the rest of them – one likely to be determined by the Klingon Empire. That's normally how this works – we give them their people back for punishment."

"Yeah, and Uhura was telling me earlier tonight that said punishment is usually death – a dishonorable one, whatever that means," McCoy grumbled.

Uhura had tried to explain to him the Klingon conception of death – how dying in battle was a cause for celebration rather than grief. She told him they often preferred to commit ritual suicide than live as a crippled warrior and that to be captured in battle, rather than killed, would bring dishonor not only to the captive but his descendants. In light of what she'd told him, McCoy understood why the other Klingons had engaged in such heated exchanges with Jokusho and McCoy didn't want to hand them all over knowing they were as good as dead.

"I don't know, Bones," Jim sighed and McCoy could tell the idea of giving up the Klingons just so they could be killed didn't sit any better with Jim than it did with him. "I'm not sure what to do, other than to keep them safe for now. Did she give you any idea of how big the raiding party was? How many of them got away? Whether they intend to come back again?"

McCoy shook his head. "Sorry, Jim. I didn't get around to all the questions I wanted to ask. She was tired and I figured we could meet in the morning and resume our questions then," McCoy murmured before taking a long sip of his drink.

The friends went on to discuss other matters – the set-up of the medical posts, damages to the crew and Celosians from the Klingon attack, and modified plans for helping the Celosians in light of so many of their own resources being stuck on the ship without a way to communicate with Starfleet. They both knew Scotty was doing everything he could to reestablish the communications links but if they couldn't get them back up soon, the Enterprise crew on the planet was going to become more of a burden than a help.

* * *

Jokusho's bed was at the edge of the medical post, close to the woods. It didn't mean she could escape any easier than if she'd been located elsewhere in the encampment – not with the redshirts guarding her around the clock. But it did mean she could hear the sounds of the forest as she lay awake, staring up at the stars above her. Mingled in those sounds came a tap. And then another. And a third. Jokusho perked up in bed. She knew what those taps were. Without clueing the guards into the fact that she was receiving a message, Jokusho listened intently as the tapping sounds continued. When they finished, she smiled. All was not lost. She and her fellow captives would have a chance to redeem themselves after all. A second incursion was coming.

As she thought about the message she'd heard, Jokusho realized she was under no obligation to share it with the others. Most of them were in beds in the center of the post, attached to machines that helped keep them alive, but that also drowned out much of the noise from the woods. She doubted anyone else at this medical post had heard – and understood – the message. If she wanted, she could do nothing and allow her comrades to die in the next attack, as they surely would if the rest of the raiders found them in medical beds, not ready to fight. The problem was, such negligence on her part wouldn't devastate Gradogh's plan. And she was sure the plan had come from him and Ovic. Gradogh was in charge of the raiders now, with Ovic as his right-hand man and advisor. If she wanted a chance to take them out, and she very much did want it, then she needed to make sure she stayed alive long enough to find them. And that meant she needed to have the other Klingons in this medical post ready to join arms with their brothers when the time came. She would never be leader of House Morc. But she could make sure Gradogh's days as house leader were limited. And that would be enough.

For the first time since their ships had departed Boreth for Celos-D42, Jokusho slept for more than an hour. She had a plan. Revenge, and a quiet, solitary life of scientific study at home on Boreth, might still be hers.

* * *

Morning came quickly. McCoy cursed the fact that of all the things stranded on the orbiting Enterprise, one crucial item was the goddamn coffee. How the hell were any of them supposed to function without it?

"Shoulda been the first damn thing beamed down," he muttered as he threw an empty container to the side.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "As necessary as humans seem to believe coffee to be, it would be most illogical to put it in the first shipment to the planet. Regulation 78.3, subsection b clearly states –"

"For fuck's sake, Spock," McCoy growled. "Can it with the regulations." He contemplated heading straight for bourbon but he had a host of patients to attend to so alcohol was out of the question.

Spock just gazed at him as he moved around, searching for the items he needed to start his rounds.

"Stop staring, you hobgoblin. You're making it worse."

"Making what worse, Doctor?" Spock asked.

"Everything!" McCoy practically yelled.

Realizing the doctor was more out of sorts than normal, Spock retreated from McCoy's office and sought out someone else to assist. Chekov was trying to recalibrate his tricorder to take readings of the planet's seismic activity and Spock joined him to assist in the calibrations.

"Dese readings cannot be possible," the younger man told him as they looked at the tricorder. "Dey indicate a wery unstable pattern dat was not present yesterday."

"As unlikely as it would be for a planet's readings to change so rapidly over the course of mere hours, we must be ready to accept these readings as valid if you receive the same after recalibration," Spock warned him.

Chekov nodded, his forehead wrinkled with concern. The recalibration would take longer than normal because they couldn't link it to the ship's system.

Leaving Chekov to wait on his tricorder to reboot, Spock made his way over to Scotty, who, like McCoy, was full of piss and vinegar, but for different reasons.

"Ach, get off," Scotty yelled to Keenser, who sat on top of the satellite. "No wonder I'm not getting any signal, you bloody bag of –"

"Mister Scott, how is your progress on reestablishing the communications link going?" Spock interrupted before the engineer could throw out any further colorful insults.

"It'd be going a wee bit better if everyone would work instead of goofing off," Scotty replied with a glare at Keenser, who had jumped down from the satellite.

"Do you have a timeline for when communications will be repaired?" Spock asked, a slight hint of Vulcan impatience in his words.

"Hoping to have things back and running within the next two hours," Scotty answered, turning back to his work.

While the members of the Enterprise crew went about their duties, Jokusho prepared to visit each of the Klingons in her medical post, to share with them the message she had heard the night before. She was initially worried about Uhura, who would understand any conversation she had with the other Klingons. Her concerns were alleviated when Uhura was asked to join Jim and Spock on a visit to the capital city. Captured Klingons who had not been injured had been imprisoned by the Celosians in the city and they wanted her assistance in translating communications with those prisoners. McCoy was fine with Uhura's departure because he had Jokusho at the post if he needed someone to translate to the patients he was still tending. Jokusho was more than happy to play the role of diligent and willing translator if it meant Uhura would leave.

As she made the rounds with McCoy, she did indeed translate everything he asked her to communicate to the wounded Klingons. But she also told them about the message and the impending charge. While McCoy was no expert at Klingon, he had the distinct sense that Jokusho's conversations with the other Klingons had gone more smoothly this time around. Perhaps they'd all needed a night of sleep.

By midday, Uhura had returned to the medical post, telling McCoy that the prisoners in the city had wanted nothing to do with her or anyone else. They'd refused to speak so she'd told them what the Celosians wanted her to communicate and that had been the end of her usefulness. Spock and Jim had stayed behind to discuss next steps with the Celosian leaders. Scotty had reestablished the communications links and McCoy had been eagerly checking his PADD for an update on Jokusho's Federation ID. Chekov was the only crew member still unhappy because despite a recalibration, and then a second check with a different tricorder, the readings on the planet's seismic activity were still bizarrely off from the day before. He was impatiently waiting for Spock to finish his meeting with the Celosians so he could tell the first officer the readings were just as they'd been that morning.

Unfortunately, he never had the chance.

Much like the first attack, McCoy was alerted by Chapel, who was at a medical post on the other side of the planet. This time, however, he didn't have time to clue Jim and Spock in before shouts and disruptor fire filled the encampment. In the bustle, he lost sight of Jokusho. A couple of well-aimed smoke bombs landed in the center of the post and when the air cleared, the beds where the injured Klingons had been were empty and their weapons had been removed from the cabinet McCoy had locked them in the day before. McCoy didn't have time to search for the Klingons because they were under heavy fire. Chaos, of a greater magnitude than the first raid, filled the post, with lifeforms running in every direction, screaming to one another to look out or move. Beds were overturned to be used as shields and crew members shot into the smoke, unsure of whether they were shooting at enemies or fellow crewmates.

And then the quake started.

Initially, McCoy felt the ground shake and assumed the Klingons had brought in larger weapons to pulverize the outpost. But as he watched a Klingon shake and fall to the ground in surprise, he realized the ground was moving independently of the fighting.

"You gotta be kidding me," he growled. How much could go wrong in one day?

As if in response to his unasked question, the ground beneath the fallen Klingon opened up, as a fault line that ran through the post was revealed. If he thought it was chaotic before, all hell well and truly broke out upon the appearance of the fault line. Enterprise crew members were the cream of the crop but asking anyone to suffer through a natural disaster at the same time as a Klingon attack was a tall order. McCoy got up and began herding crew members to safety. In some places, the fault line was just a crack that could be easily stepped across. In other places, the divide was too great to traverse. Klingons and Starfleet alike stopped fighting and began working to separate themselves – Klingons on one side of the divide and Starfleet on the other. Both groups understood that a quake was only the start. There would be aftershocks.

As he helped his crew mates cross at a more narrow part of the divide, McCoy saw Jokusho to his left, attempting to flee to the other side with some of the Klingons he'd been caring for. He realized she was probably the one who had helped them out of their beds and freed their weapons when the smoke bombs had landed. For some reason, he felt betrayed. Though their conversation had been short and contentious, McCoy had believed the woman would come around and realize she didn't belong with the Klingons. Seeing her flee with them, a Klingon disruptor in her hands, McCoy felt a rage inside.

"Take over for me, will ya?" he asked one of the ensigns he'd just helped across the divide. The young Andorian nodded and McCoy took off after Jokusho.

Before he could reach her, he watched as one of her companions turned to her. The air was still a little smoky but he saw the glint of the knife as clear as day.

"Jokusho!" he shouted and she stopped, turning her head to look at him. "Watch out!" he yelled, gesturing to the Klingon who was about to stab her in her left side, near her kidney and liver.

She spun around and deflected the d'k'tagh, grabbing it. She ignored the pain as it sliced through her palm. Another Klingon threw a punch to the side of her head and McCoy heard the impact of bone on bone then watched her fall to the ground. At that moment, as the two Klingons were ready to finish what they'd started, an aftershock tore through the clearing and once they'd regained their footing, they fled, leaving Jokusho unconscious on the ground. They only made it a couple of meters before another crack in the ground appeared and swallowed them into the planet's depths. When McCoy could move again, he made his way to Jokusho.

She was slowly coming to when he reached her.

"Come on," he said roughly, as he helped her up. "It's not safe here."

"Is it safe anywhere on this miserable planet?" she asked him and he didn't have a response for her. They made their way back to the medical post, her arm slung around his shoulders and one of his arms gripping her waist to keep her standing. As they neared the post, an explosion ripped through it and crew members scattered into the woods, away from the fire and the fault lines.

Jokusho looked at McCoy in confusion. "I don't understand. We didn't bring explosives of that magnitude with us."

"That was the oxygen tanks exploding," McCoy explained. "They need to be kept in a stable location – you know, one where the ground isn't moving and breaking open." It had been just one of many things they hadn't finished because of the first Klingon raid – ensuring the oxygen tanks were stabilized so that if the planet had another quake, like the one they were experiencing right now, the tanks wouldn't explode. McCoy sighed. This was rapidly moving up his personal list of worst missions ever.

They watched as the fire spread rapidly through the post. Uhura and Scotty ran up to them. Jokusho recognized Scotty as the man who had taken such offense to the Klingon insults against the Enterprise and, for some reason she couldn't explain, she was glad to realize he had survived both the first raid and this second one.

"Watch her," McCoy ordered the other two officers, as he grabbed her weapons from her and handed them to Uhura and the other man. "I gotta get as many supplies as I can before we lose everything."

The other officers complied, taking Jokusho over to a tree on the edge of the woods and letting her sit down as they all watched the camp burn. A few minutes later, McCoy returned to them, his face covered in soot, but with a triumphant smile.

He handed each of them a bag. "Let's get out of here before the last of the tanks blow," he said. Scotty helped Jokusho up and the foursome moved into the woods, each of them worried they'd be harmed or killed by falling trees when the next aftershock hit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is implied non-consent/rape in this chapter so please skip it if you are not comfortable reading materials with those themes. Feel free to message me for a summary of the chapter that excludes any mentions of non-con/rape.

Four years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

She had run barefoot the entire way from her home with Ovic back to House Morc. Blood pooled at her feet – a mix of the cuts she'd acquired on the journey home and what had already been inflicted on her. There were ribbons of dried blood along the insides and backs of her legs but those would only be seen if she lifted her skirts and Jokusho would give no one the satisfaction of seeing just how broken Ovic had left her.

She sought out Hus as soon as she walked in the doors, ignoring the house servants who told her he was in meetings and couldn't be disturbed. She was his youngest child. For her, he could be disturbed. Sweeping past Hus's valet and into his office, she stopped, suddenly unsure of what to say as Hus looked up from a holo-conference he was on with Kor, head of the House of Kor, the house to which House Morc paid tributes. Jokusho realized the servants had not been lying – her father was conducting important business. But as she stood there, feeling the pain from Ovic's manhandling, Jokusho made a decision. She refused to lower her eyes or retreat.

" _Kor, I must attend to something. May I comm you back at a later time_?" Hus asked, never taking his eyes off his daughter.

Jokusho barely heard the response from her father's patron. It was enough to concentrate on remaining conscious.

When Hus closed the holoscreen, Jokusho wasted no time.

" _I will not go back to him_ ," she told her father with every bit of determination and stubbornness still in her. He came around his desk and advanced towards her, taking in the blood on her feet. Before he spoke, her mother swept into the study.

" _T'uma told me you were here_ ," she said to her daughter, looking the younger woman over. Jokusho should have known her mother's handmaid would immediately spill the news. " _What happened_?"

" _Exactly what I told you would happen_ ," Jokusho replied angrily. Her rage was the only thing keeping her going.

Her mother pressed a hand to Jokusho's lower back and the pain her touch elicited was more than Jokusho could bear. She cried out and fell to her knees while the mistress of the house looked at her husband.

" _He has mishandled her_ ," she said quietly.

" _You knew he would_ ," Jokusho sobbed. " _We all knew this would happen and yet, you insisted I go to him_."

" _Silence_!" Hus commanded, fury in his voice. " _Get me my bat'leth and my mek'leth_ ," he directed his wife.

" _No_ ," Katbujo replied, standing before her husband. " _You will not fight him_."

" _Let him_ ," Jokusho pleaded. " _He will kill Ovic. Let him do it_!"

Her mother kicked her in the lower back, sending her sprawling on the carpet; the pain was almost enough to make Jokusho pass out. Instead, she wept silently, willing herself to not feel anything besides the carpet pile against her cheek.

" _Your father told you to be quiet_ ," Katbujo hissed at her. She turned back to her husband. " _If you fight Ovic, you will start a war between our houses_."

" _His house pays tribute to us_ ," Hus replied. " _They would be fools to attempt an uprising_."

" _We already know they're fools_ ," Katbujo said in rebuttal. She gestured to the prostrate Jokusho as she spoke. " _Any man who would treat his parmaqqay like this is a fool_. _But they are fools who will throw everything they have into a fight to keep their honor_."

" _They have no honor to keep_ ," Hus replied but Jokusho could hear it in his voice – he'd lost the fire to fight.

" _We know that. But what of the other houses_? _Who will side with us – with her – over him_?" Jokusho hated her mother for her words even as she realized the truth behind them.

Hus said nothing for a moment and then, " _Send for Korgihl_."

The house doctor. He would help Jokusho with her injuries and he'd remain silent about what he saw so that no one would know the truth.

When she had regained enough strength, Jokusho forced her upper body off the carpet, bracing herself with her hands. She looked up at her parents.

" _You will allow this_? _You will let him say whatever lies he will spread_?" The disbelief in her voice caused a flicker of a shadow in her father's eyes.

" _Be grateful to be alive still_ ," her mother replied. " _You will not go back to that house again. If the price for freedom is a sullied reputation, so be it_."

" _You would never let this happen to any of my siblings_ ," Jokusho replied. " _You would never let Astori be dishonored this way_."

" _Astori would not find herself in this situation_ ," Katbujo replied icily.

And there it was. Jokusho couldn't deny the truth to her mother's words. Astori wouldn't be lying on the floor, in pain, because Klingon women could withstand the roughness of a Klingon man in bed. Hell, a Klingon woman would welcome the savage treatment Ovic had shown her. They had done what they could to prepare Jokusho and Ovic but he wasn't Tsix. He wasn't going to take his time and ease her into her duties as a lover. He was never going to worry over her pleasure the way Tsix had. Ovic had never given any indication that he shared Tsix's patience or gentleness. She'd argued all of these points but it hadn't mattered. Giving her to Ovic had been good strategy for the House – of all the lesser houses paying tribute to House Morc, Ovic's was the largest – the most likely to attempt a coup. Jokusho had been offered as a preventative measure – Ovic's family would not dare attack when Ovic's parmaqqay was from House Morc. Now that she had left his home, with no intention of returning, Jokusho had just made the threat of a coup that much more likely. And everyone would blame her if fighting broke out. She hung her head in defeat.

From the time they were teens, Ovic had shown what Jokusho considered to be a creepy obsession with her. He wanted her because she was different. He wanted her so he could break her. She'd always known it, in the way a woman senses danger in a dark bar or club, from a man who follows her around, staring only at her and never at the group of friends she's with. Jokusho had done what she felt she could to tamp down on his interest. She'd been friendly with him – but not TOO friendly. If he said he liked something or another, she would voice a contrary opinion, in an effort to put him off of her. But it hadn't worked. He never listened to what she was saying anyway.

For a time, when she had been with Tsix, she'd felt safe from Ovic's gaze. She was married, after all. Happily. But when Tsix had died, the noble death of a warrior, Ovic had been right there, watching her again with hungry eyes. She'd known it was only a matter of time.

* * *

It shouldn't have bothered Jokusho as much as it did. The name-calling, the looks, the whispers when she entered a public space. She'd dealt with these, and many other slights, her entire life. You didn't walk amongst a group as someone different – the enemy – and not provoke a certain segment of the population to gossip or worse. But after the arrangement with Ovic was dissolved, and her reputation drug through the mud – well, it hurt more now. She no longer had friends willing to defend her. Drel'ak was the only person left willing to publically defend her and their parents yelled at him constantly to keep his feelings to himself. Jokusho finally begged him to stop – it wasn't worth it to risk his standing for her.

Of course Ovic claimed she'd cheated on him. He'd told everyone about walking in on her with one of the servants. One of Jokusho's only regrets was that the poor servant was also run through the wringer. Fired from Ovic's house, with no one willing to hire him, he'd left Boreth, hoping to escape the reputation of infidelity before it caught up to him on another Klingon colony. Drel'ak had, of course, asked Jokusho for the truth. He knew better. She was picky about who she would allow into her bed – always had been, with good reason. But Gradogh had swallowed his best friend's story whole. Astori was somewhere between Drel'ak and Gradogh. She resented the loss in stature that occurred because she was Jokusho's sister. But she also knew her sister well enough to know that Ovic was lying. And she'd been to the house once or twice when Jokusho recovered. She'd seen the pain firsthand. So she kept her resentments to herself, kept her concern that her own house would be affected away from Jokusho's earshot. Astori's husband was less subtle. He'd always been kind to Jokusho before the break-up. She'd gotten the impression that he viewed her as an interesting amusement – a dog that could walk on its hind legs. After the divorce, she was less an amusement and something to be ashamed of or to pity. She'd hurt their reputation. She had been dishonorable, if the rumors were to be believed. Astori's husband wasn't hostile to her but he was reserved and she was certain he did nothing when talking to his friends to defend her.

It ate at her, the fact that Ovic could walk around town with no repercussions while she was treated like a pariah. She didn't like listening to Gradogh's threats, to his wife's thinly veiled insinuations about what would be done to her once they took over the House. Mostly, she hated how Hus and Katbujo let it all happen.

During her recuperation, Katbujo stayed by her side, helping with some of the more invasive and embarrassing parts, like the daily cleaning, or helping Jokusho to the restroom. It gave mother and daughter time to talk more freely with one another.

" _You must realize, my dear_ ," Katbujo began as she ran a sponge along Jokusho's legs a few mornings after her daughter's return, " _Men like your father and Tsix are the exception, not the norm_."

" _Yes_ ," Jokusho replied, wincing. " _But could it also be that Ovic is an exception as well? Not a good one_?"

" _Perhaps_ ," her mother said, scrubbing harder as her anger over the condition of her daughter took hold of her.

" _Ow, that hurts_."

" _Sorry_."

That was the moment Jokusho realized the injuries were serious. She'd heard Korgihl's words – "irreparable damage" and "humans are more delicate" and "I don't have the proper tools to treat her" – but hearing her mother apologize – an occurrence she could count on one hand – that was when it sank in just how much Ovic had taken from her. That she'd still be able to vacate her bowels had been a small miracle and had taken every bit of skill, ingenuity, and training Korgihl had.

" _It was always going to be a struggle_ ," Katbujo continued, applying the sponge more softly as she got closer to Jokusho's injuries. " _I knew from the moment your father brought you into this house that we would be fighting a difficult battle for your inclusion into our world_."

" _You could have told him to take me back_ ," Jokusho murmured, trying to fight back the tears as her mother cleaned the area that had been such a source of grief to her for the past few days.

" _I could have no more convinced him to cut off his own arm. He had made up his mind about you long before he brought you through those doors_ ," Katbujo answered, hating to see how her daughter flinched at every touch.

" _Do you regret it_?" Jokusho asked, making eye contact with her mother in spite of the pain.

" _Of course not. You are my child, the same as those I bore your father_."

" _But I'm not. I'm not the same. I don't look like them, I can't fight like them_ –"

" _All of you are different and all of you have weaknesses_ ," Katbujo interrupted. " _But if you think I love you less, you're wrong_."

Katbujo looked at the younger woman with a mix of pity and love in her eyes. " _This was never going to be easy, Jokusho. We were lucky with Tsix. He was the perfect mate. But your integration into this society has been a fight from the start. And it will continue to be a fight. You, my youngest. You are strong enough for this. You are clever – so clever. You can succeed, my dear_."

Jokusho remained silent. She'd heard versions of this talk throughout her life. What she wanted to say was that Katbujo and Hus could help her if they were willing to take the risk. They could defend her from the backlash that would inevitably hit her the first time she went into public again. They could stand by her publicly the way they stood by her behind closed doors. But she knew her words would be wasted. They would anger her mother and she'd be even more alienated. It was best to hold her tongue and accept that she would face the music alone. Music that shouldn't be playing because she had done nothing wrong. But that didn't matter as much as preserving the family's position.

* * *

Over time, their neighbors forgot about Jokusho's scandal. Other scandals came along, and the fact that Jokusho herself kept a low profile, leaving to work for the science academy, not seeking out a new partner – she did what was expected of her. Some of it, like her work, she did with a sense of joy. Remaining single, however, was simultaneously a relief and a burden. She wanted a partner – wanted what she had experienced with Tsix. But she knew she was marked. And she knew her mother had been right – a man like Tsix was rare. Better to keep her head down and deny herself certain longings than to end up with another Ovic.

No passage of time was enough for Gradogh and Ovic. Their hatred for her burned as strong as ever. They fed it to one another in an endless loop of hostility, never giving themselves time to get over her alleged crimes. Which meant that when she finally did make an error – when the time came and she actually did commit a mistake, and a fatal one at that – they were already so primed to hate her that it was a feeding frenzy. But for Hus's intervention, she would have been dead years before the raid on Celos-D42. And maybe, given the deaths of Drel'ak and Hus, it would have been best for everyone involved if he hadn't intervened.


	7. Chapter 7

"Lemme look at your hand," McCoy gruffly demanded of Jokusho as they came to a new clearing in the woods and the foursome stopped for a moment to drink water and get their bearings. He'd already scanned her head for injuries while they'd been walking. No concussion, miraculously. She might be human, but her skull was a thick as a Klingon's, apparently. Jokusho reluctantly held her cut hand out to the doctor and after he cleaned it with antiseptic, he grabbed a dermal regenerator to heal the wound.

"Don't think I'm not aware of what you did back there," he growled softly at her as the other two officers tried to figure out where they were in relation to the capital city.

Jokusho looked away.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The hell you don't," he snarled. "You knew about the second attack before it happened. You helped your 'friends' escape – gave them weapons – and look what it got you."

He squeezed her hand as though she weren't already painfully aware of what her actions had gotten her and she pulled away from his grasp.

"I'm not done yet," he snapped, grabbing her hand back so he could finish healing the cut she'd received.

"I don't need your help," she hissed at him, jerking her hand away again. "And I don't want you to remove the mark. It's a sign of dignity!"

Her voice grew louder with every word and she clutched her hand to her chest, looking at McCoy with wild eyes.

"A sign of dignity?" he yelled. "That's one of the dumbest things I've ever heard. You didn't get that scar being heroic in some battle – you got it because your supposed kinfolk tried to kill you!"

Their raised voices had drawn the attention of both Uhura and Scotty and the two joined them.

"What's going on?" Uhura asked.

"She knew about this morning's surprise blitz," McCoy replied, jutting his head at Jokusho. "She helped the Klingons in the medical post get out – helped arm them, too."

"Is it true, lass?" Scotty asked Jokusho and even though she found him even more difficult to understand than McCoy, she knew what he was asking because she could see it in his face. He had kind eyes and they were filled with disappointment. For some reason, it was that dismay in the Scotsman's eyes that led her to feel the first twinges of guilt for what she'd done. Lowering her eyes to the ground, she nodded her head.

"What did you expect?" she asked no one in particular. "If I hadn't told the others, hadn't helped them, and the other raiders had shown up? We'd be killed and any offspring would live in dishonour forever after. This way, at least everyone who was captured and taken to the medical post now has a chance to redeem themselves. They won't be shunned from our society."

"But you will be," Uhura said quietly. Jokusho looked over at the other woman, seeing sympathy in Nyota's eyes.

" _I already have been_ ," Jokusho replied in Klingon.

"She's not a Klingon anyway!" McCoy said in exasperation.

Before anyone could respond, Jokusho had thrown her weight against him, pushing him into a tree behind him. With her arm bent at the elbow, just below his windpipe, she had him trapped.

"You may not see me as a Klingon," she cried out, glaring at him. "But it's the only life I know. I am Klingon and it's not for you or anyone else to tell me otherwise!"

Uhura shared an uneasy glance with Scotty.

"Look," Nyota said, grabbing Jokusho's elbow gently and stepping in between McCoy and Jokusho, "Right now is not a great time to get into an argument over being Klingon. We need to regroup with the rest of the crew and we've got some bad news about that. So let's put this aside for right now, okay?" She looked at both McCoy and Jokusho, and both gave a small nod.

"What's the bad news?" McCoy sighed, bracing himself for the response.

Scotty pulled out his PADD.

"Here's the thing," he began. "Chekov was trying to warn me aboot this earlier but I was wrapped up in getting the com links restarted. This planet – it's reshaping itself."

"What's that mean?" McCoy asked impatiently.

"It means none of our bloody maps are of any use," Scotty said in irritation, holding up his PADD so McCoy could see the map on it.

"Here's where we're supposed to be right now," Scotty said. "Look at how there's nothing but flat land ahead of us on the map." McCoy and Jokusho nodded as they both moved closer to Scotty to see the map on his PADD.

"And now take a look in front of us. What's that you see o'er the treeline?" he asked them both patiently.

Sure enough, sticking out above the trees surrounding the west side of the clearing they found themselves in was a sizeable mountain.

"So you're telling me that mountain wasn't there this morning?" McCoy asked incredulously.

"Exactly," Uhura confirmed. "Our maps are useless and there's no guarantee the capital city will even be there if we can manage to find its location."

McCoy didn't want to think about the capital city being swallowed up into Celos-D42. He needed to believe Jim and Spock were alive and safe – needed to believe there was a place they were heading to, where they could find a way off this damnable planet.

Uhura turned to Jokusho. " _Your people will be as affected by this as ours. No one will have an accurate layout of the planet and no one will be safe. I know you don't want to be here with us but I need you to trust me. You've been trained to handle difficult terrain and to navigate without technology – all Klingons go through it as teenagers. Help us find the capital city and I swear to you, I'll find a way to get you back to your people, if that's what you want_."

Uhura wondered what, exactly, the woman before her would want. If she was already shunned by her society, why would she have a desire to return to it? But Nyota realized from her own experiences with Spock and his family, facing rejection wasn't always a simple process and it was difficult to turn your back on something you wanted, regardless of how futile it might be.

" _How can you make a promise like that? You are not the captain. What assurance do I have that you will keep your word_?" Jokusho asked in return, her eyes curious.

" _I'll do whatever I can to get back to my own family. These people_ ," Uhura gestured to McCoy and Scotty, " _are a part of my family. But I need to find the others. And I will not allow you to be permanently separated from your family. If you want, I'll make a blood oath_."

Jokusho thought it over. " _I will not require your blood. And I will stay with you until we reach the city. Then I will leave to return to my own. I will count on you to cover for my disappearance. If you fail me, I will not hesitate to retaliate against you and your family_."

" _You have my word_ ," Uhura replied solemnly.

The two women stared at one another. Slowly, Jokusho extended the hand that wasn't wounded and Uhura clasped it tightly.

"Will you let him finish healing your hand?" Uhura asked the other woman, switching back to Standard. "We need you as healthy as you can be if we're gonna make it."

Jokusho looked over at McCoy.

"Okay," she replied grudgingly and he rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut, silently healing the rest of her wound.

As the four began walking again, McCoy fell in line with Uhura, letting Jokusho and Scotty get to know one another. The two chatted happily in front of them as McCoy gave Uhura a sly glance.

"You wanna tell me what all that was about back there?" he asked.

"I made a deal with her. She helps us find the capital and we let her return to the Klingons," Uhura said tightly.

"How'd you swing that?" McCoy demanded.

"I told her we needed her abilities to navigate without technology," Uhura responded with a slight smile.

McCoy snorted. "We all know how to navigate using the sun and stars. Hell, even medical cadets had to do the wilderness course at the Academy."

"I know that," Uhura said patiently. "But she doesn't. She likes feeling useful so I gave her a reason to feel like she was necessary to us."

McCoy gave his friend a sideways peek. He had to admit – Uhura was one of the smartest people he knew.

"How'd you figure her out so quickly?" He was slightly jealous that the communications officer had so shrewdly determined how the Klingon ally ticked and used it to their advantage.

"I did my job," Uhura replied, aware of her colleague's envy. "I watched her, listened to her – she wants to be needed, Len. She wants to fit in somewhere."

McCoy thought about Ny's words.

"So you promised her that in exchange for guiding us, we'll turn our heads when she slips away?"

She nodded. He knew Uhura had a stubborn streak that mirrored his own. Still…

"You willing to disobey orders to keep your end of the bargain?" he asked her softly as Jokusho and Scotty continued conversing in front of them.

"I'll do whatever it takes to get us back to the ship. And if she wants to return to a group that will, more likely than not, kill her, then so be it. That's her decision and I'll let her make it." Uhura looked forward, refusing to lock eyes with McCoy.

"I'll help," he replied and at that she stopped, turning to him.

"You don't have to," she assured him. "I don't want you to get in trouble… with Jim or with Starfleet."

"I'm not worried about Jim and Starfleet can kiss my ass," McCoy grumbled. "If she decides to escape and wants help, you can count me in."

Uhura smiled at him. "Thanks, Len."

They resumed their walk, catching up to Jokusho and Scotty. The four people walked for another hour in peace. At one point, Scotty and McCoy were walking together at the front, with Jokusho behind them, and Uhura behind her. Scotty was the first to hear the humming.

"D'ye hear that?" he asked McCoy quietly.

"What?" the other man asked. "What do you hear?" His mind was on the worst possible scenario – a nest of Klingons or rumbles signifying another quake.

"Listen," Scotty ordered. "The humming…"

And then McCoy heard it. Behind them, one of the women was humming.

"That Uhura?" McCoy asked, knowing the communications officer sometimes liked to sing in her free time.

"Ach, no. I'd recognize her voice," Scotty replied, transfixed by the sound.

McCoy listened closer, slowing his pace. Scotty had already stopped behind him. It was a beautiful melody and Scotty was right. The tone was richer than anything they'd heard from Uhura. Without turning around, McCoy knew exactly who it was but he stopped as well. Uhura caught up to the men and stood between them, a smile on her face.

"It's hypnotic," she said to them.

With the three of them stopped, Jokusho stopped as well and so did the humming.

"What is it?" she asked them, thinking something was wrong.

"Nothing, lass," Scotty replied. "Just checkin' the directions as best I can." He waved his PADD at her.

"Can we get moving now?" McCoy muttered.

"You're such a grump," Uhura grumbled, rolling her eyes at him.

"Sorry I'm not excited to be stuck in a forest after a goddamn quake with all y'all," he shot back without turning around.

They all continued walking, stopping only when they felt an aftershock ripple through the forest. Everyone sought cover as trees around them fell to the ground. When the shaking stopped, Jokusho looked over at the man next to her.

"Scotty!" she cried, using the name he'd introduced himself to her with as they'd been walking along. "Are you okay?"

"Ach, lass. It's not so bad. Just me leg," he replied breathlessly, wincing in pain as he tried to dislodge his leg from the tree that had fallen on top of it.

"Stop! Don't move till I find the doctor," she cautioned him. Jokusho looked around frantically for Doctor McCoy. She had only known the man laying beside her for a matter of minutes but she liked him and didn't want him to be hurt or worse.

"Doctor?" she called out. "Doctor McCoy?"

"What is it?" a familiar voice called out from behind her. "Are you hurt?"

She turned to see McCoy making his way towards her.

"Not me – Scotty! His leg is pinned down by this tree," she answered, gesturing to the large trunk beside her.

McCoy scrambled over and Uhura was right behind him. Once McCoy had determined it was safe for them to do so, he, Uhura, and Jokusho worked together to lift the tree enough that Scotty could wiggle out from under it. After, McCoy did a more thorough inspection of Scotty's wounded leg.

"You're damn lucky I grabbed a bone knitter to bring along," he told Scotty as he started using the device to repair the damage. "Leg's broken in two different places."

"Well, Ah've certainly had worse," Scotty replied, his accent made thicker by the pain he was feeling.

"Sorry I don't have much in the way of sedatives to offer you," McCoy responded, seeing the Scotsman wince.

"What kind o' man would I be if I couldn't handle a wee bit of discomfort?"

"The com links are down again," Uhura interrupted, as she stared at her PADD.

"The damn buggers have been on and off since the initial quake," Scotty informed the group.

Jokusho looked up from the tricorder Scotty had dropped in the aftershock.

"I might have good news," she said cautiously as she looked at the other three.

"Yeah?" McCoy replied, ready for some information that wouldn't suck.

"If I read this correctly, the planet's seismic activity is settling down," she said as she looked at the tricorder.

"Let me take a look, lass," Scotty asked her and she handed the device to him.

"You're right, my bonnie girl!" he told her with a wide grin. "Looks like that might have been the last aftershock for now."

"Well, maybe we can go an hour or two without a disaster," McCoy muttered as he finished with Scotty's leg. He gave the other man a pat on the back. "You should be good to walk but I'll give you something tonight to help you with any lingering stiffness – it'll help you sleep too."

"Is it bourbon?" Scotty asked hopefully and McCoy gave him a rueful half-smirk.

"I wish."

* * *

Later that evening, the group set up camp in the woods. There had been no further aftershocks and Jim had commed them in the afternoon. The capital city was damaged but still intact. Slowly, members of the crew from around the planet were making their way into the city. Because of the planet's spontaneous bout of terraforming, no one was sure how far away they were. The canyon that had opened in the ground during the first quake complicated things considerably and the Celosians had partnered with Enterprise crew members to work on a bridge across it. McCoy was relieved to know that Jim was okay but he continued to worry. What happened when the planet's seismic activity spiked again? Would they be in the city by then? And what about their companion? Would she try to kill them all in their sleep? He was incredibly wary of her and she seemed to keep her distance from him as well.

She offered to provide them dinner and McCoy made a sound of dissent. He was skeptical of letting her prepare their meals.

"You're not gonna serve us a bunch of live worms, are ya?" he asked her, his eyes ever-critical as he gazed at her.

She gave him a look. "Well, it's not like there are targs for me to hunt on this planet."

She watched as he blanched and decided to take pity on him. "I wouldn't waste such delicacies on you."

Scotty looked at the two. "Worms? A delicacy, you say? Give me enough scotch and I'll try it."

Uhura joined in. "You're talking about gagh, right? It's a traditional Klingon dish – serpent worms – and they're best served live."

Jokusho gave a nod of approval to the other woman. "You've had it?" she asked.

"Yes," Uhura replied. "The texture was not my favorite but it certainly wasn't the worst thing I've eaten."

McCoy snorted. "Not with Spock as a partner." He began mumbling about bland Vulcan cuisine and Jokusho gathered items to take with her in order to hunt animals in the woods.

"Don't worry," she assured the rest of them. "I'll make rokeg blood pie for dinner."

At that, Uhura turned a bit green and McCoy cursed.

"I'm kidding," Jokusho said hastily. "I'll make us whatever I can find. Think small animals on skewers."

"Sounds delightful!" Scotty said with an exuberance the other two lacked, both still thinking of the rokeg blood pie they'd tried one time on shore leave. There was a reason neither of them were quick to join in on group outings while on shore leave anymore. Too much alcohol led to bad decisions.

"You're not going out there by yourself," McCoy declared as he watched her gather her tools. Jokusho glared at him.

"I'll go with you," Uhura replied calmly. "When I was young, I would go hunting with my uncles. Let's see if my aim is as good as it once was."

In the end, Jokusho and Uhura managed to hunt, skin, and cook several smaller animals. As they sat around the campfire, eating a meal that had no right to taste as good as it did, McCoy reached for his own PADD for the first time since they'd left the burning medical post. At some point during the day, when the com links had been functioning, he'd finally received the message he'd been waiting for from Starfleet headquarters. He clicked on it and began reading. After a few minutes, he set his PADD down in wonderment, staring at the woman across the fire from him. He now knew her given name and who her parents were. And it was that tidbit of information – the identity of her parents – that had him stunned. As much as he wanted to show Uhura and Scotty the message on his PADD, he knew he needed to tell Jokusho first. It was her family. She deserved to know who they had been. Now, more than ever, McCoy was convinced that the story she'd shared with him about her Klingon father finding her abandoned on a planet was a complete and total lie she'd been brainwashed to believe.

After dinner, as Uhura and Scotty talked to one another, McCoy grabbed a phaser, stuffed it in the back of his utility belt so that it wasn't visible from the front, and moved towards Jokusho. It was twilight and they still had good visibility but it would be dark within a half hour and already, tiny, glowing insects that reminded McCoy of lightning bugs from back home were filling the air with their soothing glimmers.

"I'd like to talk to you – alone – if that's alright," he asked her. Uhura looked up from her conversation with Scotty and gave the other two a questioning stare.

"You planning to shoot me with that phaser?" Jokusho asked, and though she tried to keep her tone light, she was far from joking.

McCoy turned red and pulled the phaser out from his belt, handing it to Uhura.

"I just wanted to be on even ground if we were gonna be alone," he muttered.

"You flatter me," Jokusho replied. She looked at Uhura and the other woman nodded.

" _He won't hurt you – even if you let him bring the phaser_ ," Uhura assured her.

" _I have a mark on my chest that says otherwise_ ," Jokusho countered.

" _Well, you shot at him first_ ," Uhura retorted. " _In any case, the phaser will stay with me_. _You'll be fine_. _I'll keep my eyes on you two the whole time_."

"Alright," Jokusho reluctantly agreed, taking a deep breath and turning to McCoy. "Lead on."

McCoy wasn't wild about being in front of the woman – she could club him on the back of the head and he'd be passed out before he hit the ground. But he knew Uhura was watching them. Once they were out of earshot of the other two, but still within their sightline, McCoy turned around.

"I've been waiting for a message from Starfleet command regarding your Federation ID number," he began and she gave him a confused look.

"My Federation ID? I don't have one," she replied. "My father looked for one when he took me in."

McCoy grimaced. He bet the Klingon had looked for it. To remove it.

"There are two methods used to give a being a Federation ID," he explained. "One is via a chip implanted at birth. That's likely the one your… father… looked for. But because the Federation realized that those could be removed by anyone who wanted to abduct a Federation member, a second method was devised."

She nodded at him to continue.

"Every baby born into the Federation has their ID number imprinted on either bone, if they're humanoid, or an equally firm organ for the non-humanoids. Makes it nearly impossible for a Federation member's ID to be removed. Most species outside the Federation only know about the chips but even if a species is aware of the imprint, it's impossible to scratch out. The only way to remove it is to remove the bone and that's a process that leaves its own tell-tale signs."

"So I've had an ID inside me this whole time?" she asked him and he nodded.

"I sent your number to headquarters because I didn't have the computer power down here to look it up myself. If we'd been on the ship, or if I'd been able to finish setting up the post, I coulda."

She looked away when he mentioned not being able to finish setting up the medical post.

"Anyway, sometime today, I got the information I'd requested back from Command," he said and she looked up at him again.

"Why are you telling me this?" she questioned him, a mix of hostility and curiosity in her voice.

"Don't you want to know who your parents were? What happened to them?" he asked her in return.

"No, I don't," she replied. "I really don't care who they were."

"You should," he snapped before taking a moment to calm down. Fighting with her wouldn't accomplish anything. "I've got good reason to believe you weren't abandoned by them," he finally said.

"You want to tell me that my father lied to me, then?" She didn't bother tamping down on her anger. "You want to fill me with hatred towards my people, is that it?"

"No," McCoy replied, annoyed. "I just want you to know what happened to you – where you came from. You can decide what to do with the information for yourself."

"Lies," she hissed at him. "You want to turn me against the Klingons and you want to act like you're doing me a favor at the same time." She backed away from him. "I don't want to know anything about what's on your PADD."

"Not even your given name?" he entreated her.

"No!" she cried. "None of it! I'm Jokusho of House Morc and nothing you could tell me would change that!"

McCoy put his hands up, signaling surrender.

"Fine," he conceded. "I promise. I won't bring it up again."

She stared hard at him, distrust all over her face and McCoy felt himself growing irritated. How dare this dishonest Klingon sympathizer look at him as though he were trying to pull a fast one.

"What?" he spat. "Why're you starin' at me like I'm gonna piss on your leg and tell you it's rainin'?"

"I have no idea what you just said."

"Not my fault you can't understand Standard."

"I understand Uhura just fine. And to be completely clear, I understood the words you said but in the order you said them, they make no sense."

McCoy knew some of the phrases he used would be hard for someone who wasn't from the American South to understand – Jokusho was hardly the first being to look at him with confusion when he spoke. But he'd be damned if he'd let her know that.

"Guess you just need to work on your language skills," he taunted her.

"Yes, that's the problem," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "You meant it before though? You won't try to tell me anything else about the people who abandoned me?"

"Yeah, I meant it. And I'm not a liar," he grumbled, turning to make his way back towards the others. Jokusho followed him silently, his barb about deceit not lost on her. McCoy watched as Uhura relaxed in her seat, her eyes having never left them from the time they'd started conversing.

Back at the fire, with the woods around them growing dark, the foursome sat and exchanged stories. Well, the crew members chatted. Jokusho was happy to sit and listen to them but Scotty was the first to notice her silence.

"Lassie, we dinnae mean to leave ye oot," he said to her with a warm smile. "Sing us a song, will yeh?"

"Oh yes," Uhura agreed. "That's a perfect campfire activity!"

McCoy remained quiet.

Jokusho blushed furiously. "I only know a couple of songs in Standard," she demurred.

Scotty and Uhura persisted in coaxing her till she finally conceded. Refusing to make eye contact with any of them, she sang one of the two songs she knew – an Andorian lullaby. It made McCoy think about listening to holorecords with his mama on Sundays…finding her alone in the kitchen, crying softly one day after school…the weeks after that…he shook his head to get rid of the memories. The other two crew members sat in awed silence, neither having any idea why Jokusho had such a golden voice. Seeing her nervousness, Uhura joined in, singing the harmony to Jokusho's melody and Jokusho gave her a grateful smile.

When they finished, Scotty gave them an exuberant round of applause.

"Beautiful," he exclaimed. "How on earth did yeh learn to sing like that? Yeh've got the prettiest voice I ever heard."

"Truly," Uhura agreed. "Where did you learn that song? My mother sang it to me every night as a child but I haven't heard it in years."

She shrugged her shoulders at Uhura's question.

"I don't know where I heard it. Just a tune I've always known. A few years ago, I learned the words."

"Your voice is just gorgeous," Nyota gushed. Jokusho looked away, her discomfort obvious.

McCoy was the one to save her from additional awkwardness. He yawned loudly.

"Don't know 'bout the rest of you, but I'm hittin' the sack."

Scotty and Uhura reluctantly agreed and once Jokusho figured out what he meant, she shot him a look of gratitude though if he saw it, he gave no indication. All four began to prepare for bed.

Minus the fact that they were stuck on a hothouse of a planet that could start shifting at any moment, lost in woods that might hide Klingons ready to kill them, with no clear idea how they were going to regroup with the rest of the away party, McCoy couldn't help but feel like he was camping in his backyard as he'd done countless times in his youth. As he closed his eyes, he worried he wouldn't be able to sleep much but within minutes, he was taking the deep breaths of a sleeping man.

* * *

She dreamt that night; a dream she'd never had before.

She was a child again and something had scared her. She ran through a house that should have been unfamiliar to her and yet, the child version of herself seemed to know every corner of it. Running from room to room, the child didn't stop till she heard singing. It was the voice of an angel and the child stilled, listening for a moment before turning around and running towards the voice. Moments later, the girl pushed a door ajar and walked into a room filled with instruments, with sheet music, and with a woman covered from head to toes in a beautiful teal robe and head wrap. The woman – she was the source of the lovely aria filling the air and the sight of her did something to her heart – she felt a tightening in her chest as the young girl ran to the woman and threw her arms around the singing lady.

"Mama!" her younger self cried out.

"Keebs, habibti!" the woman replied, crouching down to make eye contact with the girl. "What brings you here, with such wide eyes?"

She couldn't tear herself away from staring at the woman's face. The same long lashes she saw every day staring back at her from the mirror were there, on this woman's face. So this was her mother. But was it really? A part of her knew she was dreaming – that none of this was real. But the emotions it was stirring in her – those were absolutely not fake. And there was no reason to think her mother wouldn't have looked like this.

"I'm scared," the girl replied to her mother and the woman sat down on the ground, allowing the child to climb into her lap and curl up against her.

"Why are you scared, my love?" the woman cooed at her as the edges of her hijab tickled the girl's cheeks.

"I dreamed of the bad man again, taking me away from you," the girl said into her mother's chest as she clung tightly to the woman.

"He won't take you away forever," the woman assured her. "You'll never be far from me."

Jokusho awoke with a start, her heart racing.


	8. Chapter 8

Seven years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

" _You know, this isn't the first time you're going to see me naked_ ," Jokusho said with a wicked smile. " _You don't have to act so virginal_."

" _Who says I'm acting virginal_?" Tsix replied with a half-grin. " _What if I'm just excited to welcome my wife into our new home_?"

Between kisses and giggles, the two finally managed to open the door to the bedroom and tumble into the room together.

When Jokusho caught her breath and stood up straight once more, she found Tsix staring at her with the same face he'd been making all day long.

" _You're doing it again_ ," she said with a smile. " _You're giving me virgin eyes_."

This time, he didn't brush it off. " _I've told you before how much I love you_ ," he told her as he drew closer to her.

" _And I you_ ," she responded with an upturn of her lips. " _If I recall, that's what a large part of today was about_."

He gave her a smile in return. " _It was_.  _But I need to you to know – to understand – this marriage doesn't change anything_.  _I still adore you_.  _I married you for you – not your family_.  _And I will still seek to make you happy every day_." He looked over at the bed. " _I'll do my best not to hurt you_."

Jokusho smiled at him. " _You've been good to me, my love. But you know what they say – a broken clavicle on the wedding night brings good luck._ " She turned around and looked at him over her shoulder. " _Now, help me with these ties, please, so we can consummate this marriage the way Klingons are supposed to_."

* * *

When they started dating, she had just received her degree in electromagnetic engineering. Jokusho had known Tsix from her youth; as daughter of the House head for the region, she knew most of the residents within the town and outlying areas. Tsix hadn't hung out with her friends much in their youth – he came from a small House and was often ridiculed by the others. But she had always liked the thoughtful boy. She'd liked the easy way he'd handled the jabs from classmates, letting so many unkind words roll off his back like they were nothing at all. When she returned home from university and ran into him at a local bar, they had clicked instantly, spending the rest of the night together, in a quiet corner, talking and getting to know one another better.

The first time he kissed her, she was surprised and confused.

" _Why'd you do that_?" she asked him as he pulled away.

" _Why wouldn't I_?" he asked her in return, a soft look in his eyes.

" _But you're so… And I'm… no one is going to call me pretty, you know_ ," she said weakly.

" _I think you're beautiful_ ," he countered.

" _Well, now I'm genuinely concerned there's something wrong with your eyes_ ," she retorted.

Inside, she worried he was teasing her, setting her up for some prank. Because how else would a man so handsome, so perfectly Klingon, go after a girl like her? She'd heard what the people in town whispered behind her back – how they wondered if she was one of the infected Klingons – an augment gone wrong. People like her, with smooth foreheads and too-human a look – they were ridiculed, treated as less-than. Not at the level of her Father's boss, of course – not to his face, at least. When Kor had been disfigured by the augmentation, no one had said anything to him. Jokusho, who was protected somewhat by her father's status, still felt the slings and arrows of those who disdained her appearance because they knew just as well as she did that her father could only protect her so much.

" _There's nothing wrong with my eyes_ ," Tsix said gravely. " _But there's something quite wrong with you if you think you're unattractive_."

" _What if I told you I don't mind the way I look_?" Jokusho said defiantly. It wasn't true – she hated how…alien…she looked compared to everyone else. But even more than that, she hated being called out for anything remotely approximating insecurity.

" _I'd hope you were telling the truth_ ," he replied. " _You should see yourself as the lovely woman I see_."

With that, he moved towards her once more and she let him kiss her repeatedly.

Theirs was an unconventional courtship, by Klingon standards. Though she had a clear understanding of what her role was in the process, Jokusho found herself frequently ignoring the expected part of a female Klingon being romanced.

The first time Tsix read her poetry, she had made a good initial attempt to yell and throw things at him but as he kept reading, she found herself sitting down beside him.

" _What_?" he asked. " _Am I doing something wrong_?"

" _No_ ," she assured him. " _I just…I want to hear the poem – want to hear you reading it_.  _And I can't do that if I'm throwing things at you and screaming_."

" _You're so weird_ ," he said to her affectionately, bumping his shoulder against hers.

" _I know_ ," she replied with a tiny grin, running her fingers over his forehead. She loved touching the ridges and Tsix was the only person she'd let herself do something so silly with.

" _I love you_ ," he whispered. " _And_   _not just because of the weirdness_."

Jokusho was stunned. And elated.

" _I love you too_ ," she replied enthusiastically, unable to comprehend her luck that someone like Tsix would love someone like her. She would never be able to fully explain to him how much the gift of his love meant to her but she was ready to spend the rest of her life trying.

He gave her a wide grin, as though she was the one who had given him a gift, and went back to where he'd left off, putting his arm around her and pulling her close to him as he finished the poem.

* * *

It was hard to say which one of them was more nervous the first time they attempted to make love. Tsix had seen enough of Jokusho in various states of undress beforehand to know she was not made like a Klingon woman. Fundamentally, neither of them was sure exactly how two penises were supposed to line up with one vagina. Sure, there was another place he could fill but he wasn't sure how much pleasure that was going to bring her – or himself, for that matter.

It was an awkward encounter, but one filled with laughter and patience on both their parts.

" _What about like this_?" he asked.

Her response was a giggle and then, " _Let's try this_." Her breath was soft against his ear and she straddled him easily.

" _What if we start this way_?" she asked as she slowly slid down one shaft, holding the other between them. She rocked against him gently and he handed her a bottle of lube for the shaft she was holding in her hand. Once she began stroking him, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled over so he was on top. She hitched her legs around his hips, to give him better access to her core. She felt good – better than he'd hoped. He'd worried she would be too small to take all of him but he was able to fill her without hurting her and what she was doing with her hands – well, he'd known she was talented when it came to stroking him – they'd already done this before. But doing it at the same time as he penetrated her? It was a whole new level of pleasure for him and she seemed to be enjoying it too, which mattered more to him than his own gratification.

Midway through, he looked down at her.

" _Do you want to try_ …,"

" _This feels really good, just like this_ ," she gasped in response. " _Is it okay if we just stay like this_?"

He nodded, kissing her smooth forehead.

Tsix continued to thrust into her with one of his shafts while she stroked the other with her hands, using a mix of lube and her own bodily fluids to keep from chaffing him. When he made her come, she lost her grip momentarily, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through her. When he came, shortly thereafter, Tsix realized he'd just had some of the best sex of his life and it'd had little to do with positions and filling every opening, and so much more to do with the connection he and Jokusho had created with one another.

* * *

" _I know I come from a small House. We do not bring much in the way of weapons, warriors, or other tributes to you, Sir. But I wish to marry your daughter_ ," Tsix held Hus's gaze even as his insides twisted in nervousness.

" _Do you make her happy_?" Hus asked the other man.

" _I believe I do_ ," Tsix answered.

" _Do you intend to keep making her happy_?"

" _Yes sir_ ," he replied.

" _Then that's all I require of you, son_ ," Hus said and turned back to his work. The conversation was over and Tsix would become a part of House Morc. When the young man had left his office, Hus smiled. He'd always worried about finding Jokusho a mate. Turned out, his worries had been unnecessary.

* * *

On their wedding night, she was insistent they give double penetration another try.

" _We don't have to rush into this_ ," he argued as he undid her ties. " _Tonight, we can just enjoy ourselves_.  _I've no intentions of breaking any of your bones anytime soon_."

" _You're no fun_ ," Jokusho replied, pulling away to remove her wedding outfit. She looked over at Tsix, who was standing with his arms crossed, a stern look on his face. " _Fine_ ," she conceded. " _No broken bones. But come on! Let's have sex the way we're supposed to._   _Who's to say we won't enjoy ourselves if we try again anyway_?"

" _But last time, you really didn't like it_ ," he protested, removing his own clothes because Tsix realized that once she had an idea in her head, Jokusho would not be deterred easily.

" _Last time, we didn't have lube_ ," Jokusho reminded him. " _It will be better this time, I know it_."

" _Hey_ ," he said, pulling her to him. " _If you don't like it – if it isn't as good as you're hoping – just tell me to stop, okay_?  _We don't have to get there tonight – or ever, for that matter_."

She kissed his nose, enjoying the feel of the ridges against her lips. " _I know, love. But we can try. And try again. As much as we need to, okay_?" She nipped his shoulder, first playfully, and then with more force, making her intentions crystal clear.

Tsix gave up. She wouldn't stop till she got what she wanted. It was part of why he loved her so much. She wasn't traditionally aggressive. But she had a stubborn streak to defy that of any Klingon he'd ever met. And she reached her goals through a combination of determination and hard work. Not that he wanted sex to be hard work. Looking at her, half undressed, he felt himself grow aroused.

Later, in bed together, she knelt with her face pressed down against a pillow, her arms extended and her knees spread to accommodate his body between her legs.

" _I'm ready_ ," she said, her voice slightly muffled by the pillow.

" _Just remember to breathe_ ," he replied. " _Stay relaxed_."

" _I know, I know_ ," came her impatient reply and Tsix let out a deep sigh of frustration because the woman beneath him was anything but relaxed.

He entered her slowly and she made a sharp inhale, even as she helped guide one of his erect cocks into her core. The other – the source of her discomfort – was his to guide and he so wanted to make sure he didn't hurt her.

" _Are you okay_?" he asked, feeling how tightly she was clenched.

" _Yeah, it's okay. I'm fine_ ," she breathed.

" _You have to be relaxed_ ," he countered, afraid to continue pushing.

" _I'm never gonna be as relaxed as you want me to be_ ," she retorted. " _This is as good as it gets_."

" _We can stop_ ," he offered.

" _If you stop, you'll be sleeping outside_."

Tsix shook his head and sighed again. " _You got it, boss_."

Slowly, so very slowly, he pushed further and further, taking breaks for her to catch her breath, until he was seated inside her.

" _I told you_ ," she cried triumphantly. " _I knew we could do this_!"

" _You do realize that sex is just me doing this over and over, right_?  _Now I pull out and thrust in again_?"

But he couldn't dampen her spirits and now that she'd been able to take him, all of him, he felt her relax and unclench a little more. So scared of hurting her, he moved gently until she begged him to stop being so cautious and to fuck her properly. So he pushed harder but still, he was careful. He never lost control. Not that night or any other because she was smaller than a Klingon woman would be and as enjoyable as penetrating her with both his shafts was, the fact remained that one of her openings was more delicate than the other. He had to exercise restraint with her, always. But he didn't mind because they both got off, and often, she came repeatedly before he did. That was all he wanted – to make sure she felt good. When she felt good, he did too.

Jokusho realized Tsix never completely let himself go when they made love the way Klingon men expected to make love. She knew he was keeping her from pain. And she did what she could on her end to make up for the fact that he always remained careful when they engaged in double penetration. She thought of creative ways to please him orally and with her hands, looked up different positions they could try when they were just engaging in single penetration. Over time, they both became more comfortable with double penetration and experimented with how much she could take, and in what positions, but Tsix never fully gave into his animalistic impulses that would arise during such sessions.

* * *

Jokusho was singing softly to herself in the kitchen, preparing dinner and Tsix leaned against the doorway, listening to her. The words didn't make any sense but the tune – it was haunting and he'd never heard his wife sing before.

She turned and saw him, jumping slightly before a deep blush spread across her cheeks.

" _I didn't hear you come in_ ," she said softly, looking down at the floor.

" _Too busy singing about scrambled swart'hal eggs_ ," he replied with a smirk. " _What's that song, anyway_?  _I've never heard it before_."

She looked up, surprised that he wasn't upset at her for singing. The few times Hus had truly yelled at her as a child all revolved around him catching her singing. Her father had told her she had a horrible voice and no one would ever want to hear it. At first, she had tried to learn as many Klingon pieces of music as she could – even going so far as to learn a couple of Klingon arias, hoping that if she were caught, it wouldn't be so offensive. But Hus had hated even the Klingon songs, telling her she had ruined them for future listenings. He'd gone as far as refusing to let her attend Kot'baval, the festival celebrating the defeat of Molor by Kahless, for several years because he feared she would attempt to join in with the songs sung by the locals throughout the day. It was only after three years of silence on her part that Hus finally relented and let her join the festivities with the rest of the family. Jokusho learned to never sing or hum around others.

She had done the best she could to eradicate all singing from her life. The problem was, there was always music in her head. She didn't know the name of every tune, but at any given moment, she could hear something if she cleared her mind of all other thoughts. As she got older and went away for schooling, she'd begun to let music back into her life – at least when she was certain she was alone. She had, with much apprehension, even taught herself the words to a couple of songs through watching Federation holovids. Even though she didn't relish the idea of Hus finding out about her secret collection of Federation music, or her ongoing proclivity for singing, she couldn't help herself. It was soothing and she thought her voice sounded nice, despite her father's insistence that it was offensive garbage. Getting caught by Tsix filled her with a nervousness she hadn't felt since her youth. Would he think her voice was as awful as Hus had found it? Was her singing yet another sign of how different she was from everyone else?

" _I don't know the name of it_ ," she mumbled, his reaction making her unsure of whether he thought she was awful or not. " _Just some song that gets stuck in my head sometimes_."

" _Hey_ ," Tsix was in front of her, his arms on hers. " _Look at me_ ," he asked her gently and she reluctantly lifted her eyes to his. " _What's wrong_?" he asked her, his hand cupping her chin.

" _I know my voice – I know it sounds awful to Klingon ears. I promise, I won't sing when anyone's around_." The look in her eyes made Tsix want to fight whoever had made her feel so bad about singing.

" _What're you talking about_?" he whispered, giving her a smile instead of stalking off to her parents' house to demand what they had done to make their daughter so hesitant to sing. " _Your voice is beautiful. I don't understand why you wouldn't sing around others more often_."

She stared at him, trying to ascertain if he was joking but the earnestness in his eyes won her over. " _You're serious_?" she asked, seeking one more confirmation that this wasn't a joke. " _You like my voice_?"

" _As much as I love everything else about you_ ," he confirmed, nuzzling her neck. " _I don't know why anyone would tell you it's anything less than delightful_."

" _I swear, sometimes I think you were meant to be a human_ ," Jokusho replied with a wry grin.

" _Way to take a compliment_ ," he groused, pulling away from her. " _How many times do I have to assure you I'm not into humans besides you_?  _And that you don't really count anyway_?"

She laughed. " _You did say you found them attractive_ ," she teased as she returned to her dinner prep. Tsix joined her at the counter and helped slice roots for the salad. Jokusho loved how willing he was to do things most Klingon men would never lower themselves to do. Like Hus, Tsix wasn't afraid to be caught in the kitchen, cooking. He enjoyed spending time with his wife and the tasks they did together didn't matter to him. Nothing was above or below him and he allowed Jokusho to assist him with things Klingon women were supposed to avoid. There were no gender rules in their house.

" _I told you that if I had to choose between humans, romuloids, or orions, I would choose humans. That doesn't mean I like them or want to live among them. Just, of three bad choices, they're the least bad_."

They continued to lovingly harass one another till dinner was on the table. Tsix and Jokusho had a fulfilling life, built on mutual trust and adoration. For two years, Jokusho lived in a happy bubble. He husband loved her, she was crazy for him, her family was content, and even the looks and comments in town no longer got under her skin as much.

And then Tsix was ordered to participate in a skirmish against the Romulans.

* * *

" _You could say no_ ," Jokusho pleaded with her husband as he packed.

" _Why would I do that_?" he asked her.

" _Because_ ," she faltered. " _Because…I'm worried and I don't want you to go_."

Tsix left his bag and stood in front of his wife, ruffling her hair. " _You know I can't refuse_ ," he whispered, his chin on her forehead.

" _I know_ ," she said miserably. " _Doesn't mean I can't complain about it_."

Unfortunately, complaining was the only thing she could do. There was no recourse within her power to stop Tsix from joining the fight against the Romulans. His orders had come from above her father – from Kor, himself. And Tsix wouldn't be alone – Hus, Gradogh, and Drel'ax would be joining him.

At a family dinner, Jokusho tentatively approached Gradogh. They'd never been especially close and she wasn't sure he wouldn't laugh in her face when he heard her request – the same request she'd already made of both Hus and Drel'ak.

" _What do you want, tiny one_?" Gradogh asked her as she drew closer to him, knowing how much she hated the nickname.

Jokusho grimaced but this was too important to allow the annoying sobriquet to deter her.

" _Look, when you all leave for the neutral zone_?" she began, hesitating.

" _You want me to bring a souvenir back for you_?  _Maybe some pointy ears_?"

" _No_ ," Jokusho replied, irritated. " _I just wanted to ask you to look out for Tsix. That's all_."

" _Does Tsix know you're running around to everyone in the family, asking us to protect him_?" Jokusho narrowed her eyes at her oldest brother. " _Drel'ak already mentioned to me that you wanted us to keep an eye on your husband_ ," Gradogh added, not trying to explain things as much as he was trying to make Jokusho feel self-conscious, trying to make her doubt the friendship she shared with his younger brother.

" _Of course he does_ ," she snapped. " _And even if he didn't, why would it matter_?"

" _Because he's a man and he doesn't need you running around, making him look weak_ ," Gradogh retorted.

" _Tsix doesn't think my concern makes him look weak_ ," Jokusho stated and she hoped she was telling the truth.

" _Whatever_ ," Gradogh responded, walking away from her.

Tsix came up to Jokusho and, seeing they were alone, snuck his arms around her.

" _Get everyone to agree to throw themselves in harm's way to keep me alive_?" he teased her gently.

" _Stop_ ," she scoffed. " _You'd do the same thing in my position_."

" _If I were in your shoes_?  _I'd forbid you from leaving the house_ ," Tsix countered.

" _Not fair_ ," Jokusho complained. " _Just because women have to do what their male counterparts demand of them doesn't mean I should just do nothing when I can't order you to stay away from bloodshed_."

Tsix turned her around so they were staring at one another.

" _I shouldn't tease you about this, I know_ ," he said softly before kissing her forehead.

" _But when has that stopped you_?" she asked with a quirk of her lips.

* * *

Their last night together before Tsix departed for the front lines, he held Jokusho close, whispering reassurances in her ear.

" _I love you_ ," he cooed as he pushed into her.

" _Love you too_ ," she gasped into his chest as they moved against one another.

* * *

Rejoice! We are notifying you of the honourable and glorious reunification of your husband, Tsix, of House D'rilnol, with Kahless in Sto'Vo'Kor.

* * *

" _You'll send me messages every day, yes_?" Jokusho panted as their bodies remained intertwined after their lovemaking.

" _As often as I can_ ," he replied, nuzzling her neck.

* * *

We wish to convey our assurance that your husband died a hero, obtaining the highest degree of glory in the afterlife – that of an honourable warrior in the Black Fleet. You may celebrate his death as it was celebrated on the field of battle by his fellow warriors.

* * *

" _You're the best thing that's ever happened to me_ ," Jokusho murmured drowsily as sleep began to overtake her.

" _Impossible_ ," he whispered back. " _You are the best thing to happen to me_."

" _Maybe we both got lucky then_ ," she mumbled.

* * *

Her tears obscured the rest of the letter. He was gone. Tsix was gone and he was never coming home. She supposed she ought to tell someone – his family, her family – but all she could do was sit there, tears spilling from her eyes. She knew she wouldn't be able to cry in front of anyone else – he'd died a hero. As his widow, she'd be expected to be happy about such a worthy death. But right now, away from the world, clutching the PADD in her hands so tightly she wondered if she could snap it in two, this was yet another time when she realized she was different from the rest of them. Death didn't seem like a victory – not if she was to be left behind without him.

After her tears dried, but before she notified anyone else, Jokusho felt a rush of anger within her. All her life, she had dedicated herself to the Klingon way of life and yet again, she felt like an outsider. She wasn't happy Tsix was in Sto'Vo'Kor – she was angry and hurt to be abandoned. Without thinking clearly, she ran into the study where their copy of the paq'batlh sat on a shelf. She lit a fire in the fireplace and threw the Book of Honour into the flames. As she watched the sacred book burn, her senses came back to her and she felt ashamed. What would Tsix think if he could see her now? Jokusho hung her head, feeling shameful and dishonourable. Her task should be to celebrate her husband, not to wallow in petty emotions of sadness. After all these years, she still struggled with her humanity.

Katbujo watched her youngest as Jokusho went through the steps of planning a celebration for Tsix. She and Hus had worked so hard to train Jokusho on how to be a proud Klingon and while the young woman was doing everything expected of her, Katbujo longed to pull her aside and ask her if she needed a chance to mourn. She thought about the losses she had suffered in her own life – T'udrok, her beloved firstborn, weighing most heavily in her mind. She wondered if Jokusho understood she could take a moment to grieve. But she never did pull her aside to tell her it was okay to have a cry, to be angry and throw things. Best not to indulge in behaviors that went against the Klingon way of life. And besides, Jokusho seemed to hold her own, as she always had.

* * *

Late in the night, Tsix awoke Jokusho again, silently. They moved together in harmony, one last coupling before he'd leave in a few hours. She clung to him, her lips seeking his repeatedly. After they fell asleep, wrapped in each other's arms.

In the morning, she helped him dress in his battle armor, doing whatever she could to keep the loneliness and worry off her face. But despite her best efforts, he knew.

Tsix pulled her to him minutes before he left to join her family members at the closest transport station.

" _I'll be with you even when I'm gone_ ," he whispered, running his hands softly over her body, pulling her as close to him as he dared with full armor on.

" _And I'll be with you_ ," she replied, afraid she'd start crying if he didn't let her go.

" _Whatever happens, I'm always with you because you are a part of me_ ," he told her fiercely.

" _And you are a part of me_ ," she told him, not breaking eye contact even as her eyes began to water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late - I was overseas without my laptop and was able to post to fanfiction.net but couldn't get the formatting right for AO3. So now that I'm back, you get this chapter today and another one on the regularly scheduled Monday drop. Enjoy!


	9. Chapter 9

" _He's not so bad, you know. Once you get used to the fact that he's always cranky_ ," Uhura said with a smile.

Jokusho snorted. " _I've spent my life with Klingons and he's still the most stubborn bastard I've ever had to deal with_."

Uhura laughed and her laughter prompted Jokusho to chuckle as well. Their merriment resulted in the man they were discussing turning around and giving them the stink eye. Somehow, even though McCoy knew next to no Klingon, he could tell they were talking about him and he didn't appreciate it.

In truth, these conversations with Uhura were becoming Jokusho's favorite part of each day. It had been four days since they'd wandered into the forest, and though they were making progress, the fact that they were on foot, coupled with the planet's ever-active shifting plates, meant things were moving slowly. But these moments, when she could revert to speaking Klingon with the communications officer – they were welcome relief from the headaches she would get, trying to keep up with everyone else in Standard. She was more than proficient in the Federation's main language but it was difficult switching so suddenly from speaking Klingon day in and day out to using a language she usually only read or watched holos in. The doctor's seemingly constant state of irritation wasn't helpful – he talked like he had marbles in his mouth when he was cranky, which was damn near every minute he was awake, as far as Jokusho could tell. And she knew she was a source of some of his agitation though she felt it was merely fair as the tall, dark-haired man with the greenish-brown eyes was certainly a source of unrest for her.

"Oh Len," Uhura called out to the doctor. "Stop pouting. We're not saying anything you haven't heard already."

"Don't understand why you need to say anything at all about me," he mumbled back and by the time Jokusho had processed what he'd said and come up with a retort, the moment had passed and he was conversing with Scotty.

With McCoy and Scotty wrapped up in conversation, Uhura and Jokusho resumed their own discussion in Klingon. Unsurprisingly, Uhura seemed to understand how mentally exhausting it was for Jokusho to keep up in Standard, especially with the men – of all the crew men they could be stuck with, they were two of the more difficult ones for those who were not native Standard-speakers to understand. The women discussed a lot as they got to know one another more. Jokusho opened up about what life had been like on Boreth – she mentioned Tsix, her failed union with Ovic, and some of her motivation to prove herself which had led to coming on this raid. In turn, Uhura told her about dating Spock and their break-up.

" _I don't know how you could do it, being with a telepath. I think that would drive me to the brink_ ," Jokusho said with a mix of awe and revulsion.

" _Yeah, but you Klingons are good at resisting telepathy_ ," Uhura replied with a smile.

" _Sure, yes. But I'm not really Klingon, remember_?" Joksuho countered with her own smile. It was easier to acknowledge her differences to someone like Uhura, who respected Jokusho's Klingon affiliation than it was someone like McCoy who seemed to only focus on how Jokusho wasn't technically a Klingon.

" _Then it's hereditary - biological – the ability to resist mental manipulation_? _It's not something they teach you_?" Uhura had always wondered.

" _It's a mix. They teach us techniques that are supposed to help. But there are also many more neural inhibitors in Klingon brains than most other species_."

Uhura nodded thoughtfully. At some point, once they were back on the ship, she'd tell McCoy about the increased neural inhibitors in Klingon brains. There was so much about Klingons they didn't know. Having someone like Jokusho to talk with was invaluable.

" _You said you ended your relationship with the Vulcan…Spock…the second time_. _Why_?" Jokusho asked with genuine interest because a love story, especially one with a sad ending? Well, that was something she could get behind regardless of the species involved.

" _I realized I was attracted to someone else_ ," Uhura replied simply.

" _Another person on your ship_?"

" _Yes_ ," Uhura answered, chewing her lip as she thought about her current interest. She wanted to get back to the capital city and find out about her crush's status – make sure everything was okay.

" _May I ask who it is_?" Jokusho prodded, enjoying the chance to gossip with someone once more, even if she had no real idea who they were discussing. She'd missed the feeling of a girl friend she could talk with after things with Ovic had fallen apart.

Uhura wondered how Jokusho would respond to her infatuation. She hadn't said a thing to anyone else on the crew yet. But maybe that was what made it so easy to tell the other woman – Jokusho had no idea who she was talking about – she was a safe set of ears. With that thought, Uhura looked at Jokusho, watching for her reaction as she spoke.

" _My friend, Christine Chapel. I realized, after our time on Altimid, that I cared for her as much more than a friend. I tried to deny it for a while as the ship was being rebuilt, but it didn't go away and it wouldn't have been fair to stay with Spock when my feelings were with someone else_."

Jokusho didn't skip a beat. " _Have you told her how you feel_?"

Uhura shook her head.

" _Well, why not_?" Jokusho asked, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, telling your best friend that you thought you were falling for her.

" _I'm scared, I guess_ ," Uhura said pensively. " _We've become such good friends and I don't want to ruin that._ "

" _But what if she has similar feelings for you_? _Surely you don't intend to do nothing_?" Jokusho said with a hint of chastisement.

Uhura grinned. " _No, I intend to tell her. I just haven't worked up the courage to do it yet_."

" _Well, don't wait too long! You don't want to miss your chance_ ," Jokusho said, giving the other woman a playful smile.

If Uhura had been at all concerned that Klingons wouldn't understand same-sex attractions, those worries had been alleviated by Jokusho's response. She hadn't batted an eye at Uhura's confession. Still, before she added acceptance of homosexual relationships to her growing list of Klingon cultural norms she'd learned about from Jokusho, she decided to get confirmation.

" _Is it not an issue in Klingon society – same-sex relationships_?" she asked Jokusho and the woman gave her a funny look.

" _Why would it be_?" Uhura didn't miss the slight defensive edge to Jokusho's voice.

" _I don't know. From what I've learned about Klingon culture, women seem to have a more defined role in raising the family while the men fight. You said yourself you were one of a handful of women to come on this raid. I just didn't know if gender roles being so defined would mean more rigid prescribed sexual norms_." She hoped she was wording things in a way that wouldn't insult Jokusho and was relieved to see the other woman lower her shoulders slightly.

" _We do seem to lack some of the gender equality members of your Federation enjoy,"_ Jokusho acknowledged. " _But no one cares who you choose to sleep with as long as you are a competent warrior. The only time issues of sexuality come into dispute are situations like the one I told you about with Ovic – my parmaqqay. If a House wishes to give one of its members into a union with the member of another House to strengthen alliances, and sexual preference leaves the two incompatible, there are differing beliefs as to how it should be handled_."

" _And_? _What are they_?" Uhura prodded.

" _Some think the sexual preference of the intended mates should be ignored, even if it is not compatible. Others think the sexual preference should be respected. It's a debate that has been going on for quite some time in Klingon society. As of right now, most think sexual preference should be taken into account. I hope we will see that belief made into law within my lifetime_."

Uhura nodded.

" _Are genders fixed in Klingon society_?" she asked gently.

Jokusho looked at her with puzzlement. " _What do you mean_?"

" _Well, some societies – like Andorians – they have more genders than just male and female. Their society has always been very flexible and accepting of gender fluidity. We humans are born with male or female genitalia. But sometimes, a human will realize their gender doesn't match the genitalia they were born with. In the past, this was an issue in human society – a few hundred years ago, those who felt their gender was misidentified based on what they were born with were subject to discrimination and persecution. I wondered if Klingon society had experienced similar struggles._ "

" _You refer to those who are transgendered, yes_?"

Uhura nodded.

" _Yes, we have transgendered people in Klingon society. Like I said regarding same-sex relationships – no one much cares what your gender or sexual preference is – it's all about how well you fight and represent Klingon ideals of honour. I do not recall learning anything about particular struggles with either except in cases of House alliances_."

" _So if a Klingon was born with female genitalia_ …"

" _We have procedures for allowing people to become what they should be_ ," Jokusho finished and Uhura nodded approvingly.

" _Humans and Klingons aren't so different in certain respects_ ," Uhura replied with a friendly grin.

" _I suppose not_ ," Jokusho replied. " _My brother, Drel'ak – he preferred men. When my parents announced they were giving me to Ovic to strengthen the alliances between our Houses, Drel'ak tried to stop them. He offered to take my place as a parmaqqay. One of his closest friends was Ovic's younger brother, Ustull_."

Here Jokusho's voice became shaky and Uhura looked over to see her eyes watering. But she fought back the tears. Jokusho would not have these Starfleet officers see her be weak, no matter how nice they seemed.

" _He offered to be paired with Ustull. They weren't lovers but Ustull agreed to it. He said he wouldn't care and would let Drel'ak pursue whomever he wanted if it meant peace for the two Houses_."

" _Why didn't your parents agree to the switch_?" Uhura asked with compassion in her voice.

" _They would have. But Ovic's House insisted it be Ovic. Later, Ustull told Drel'ak it was because Ovic refused to let anyone else take his place. He wanted me as his parmaqqay and he would not let the opportunity pass_."

" _I'm sorry_ ," Uhura whispered. Jokusho hadn't told her much about Ovic but the little she'd said, and the way she'd said it had made clear Ovic had not treated her well.

" _It's life_ ," Jokusho replied resolutely. " _The past cannot be changed so there is no reason to mourn it_." She quickened her pace a bit and Uhura let her move ahead, sensing the other woman needed some time to herself and her own thoughts.

* * *

Jokusho wasn't just warming up to Nyota. Her conversations with Scotty affirmed her initial favorable impression of the Scotsman. Their shared interest in engineering dictated the topics of most their conversations, though Scotty was also delighted to share Scottish phrases and jokes with the other woman. Jokusho had never met someone quite like Scotty. He reveled in his position as an engineer and scientist. He was proud of what he knew. It had never been like that for Jokusho and her fellow scientists on Boreth. In Klingon culture, being a scientist was seen as a shortcoming – something you did because you couldn't be an effective warrior. For the first time in her life, she was meeting people who appreciated her knowledge, who didn't care that she was a woman. And the thing was, Jokusho knew that Scotty could fight – she'd seen him against the Klingons just before Drel'ak had been killed. All her life, she'd been taught that Starfleet was weak – filled with simple-minded beings unable to fight honourably. But what she'd seen on the battlefield, with only a few exceptions, had been a group of tough and fair fighters. And now she was discovering that they valued interests outside of warfare. Her conversations with Scotty were not only interesting from a scientific stance, but they also opened the door for Jokusho to consider a life in which she would be accepted, even praised, for her scientific pursuits.

During one of their conversations, Jokusho confirmed a theory she'd been harboring since she'd first heard that Starfleet had sent their flagship to assist Celos-D42 in its recovery.

"What I cannae understand, for the life o' me, is why the comms keep cutting out like this," Scotty told her in frustration after putting his communicator away, his conversation with the captain cut short once more by the fritzing com links.

"The planet's seismic activity is not enough for this kind of consistent disruption," he continued, grumbling some curses to himself too quickly for Jokusho to understand what he was saying.

"Scotty, when you were directed to come to this planet, did Starfleet give you schematics on the planet?" she asked hesitantly, not wanting to say more than was necessary. As comfortable as she felt around Uhura and Scotty, she tried to always remember that they were, technically, the enemy. And even if she sometimes forgot herself around the other two, the grumpy doctor certainly served as a constant reminder to her of how Starfleet crew members were very much the adversaries.

"You mean mark-ups of the planet's geographic features and elements?" he asked and she nodded, telling herself to remember the words he used. Talking to Scotty was doing wonders for her scientific vocabulary.

"Of course, lassie. We don't just fly into places without knowing what's there first," he replied with a gentle reprimand.

"I know," she replied with a small smile, guilt flooding her. "May I see the schematics? I'd like to compare them to what I remember of our own."

He dug his PADD out of the knapsack he carried and pulled up the requested docs for her to peruse. It was just as she'd suspected. Starfleet had been clueless when they sent the Enterprise to Celos-D42. She felt a lump in her throat as she handed the PADD back to Scotty.

"Well then, anything different between what we know about the planet's composition and what you know?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "Pretty much the same," she managed to choke out. If Scotty suspected she was lying, he gave no indication.

Nighttime was the hardest part of this adventure she'd found herself a part of because nights had come to mean disturbing dreams – the implications of which she didn't want to deal with. She'd been able to rationalize the first dream – they'd asked her to sing just before bed and Doctor McCoy had tried to tell her about her parents – surely that's why she'd dreamt of the singing woman. But, on the second night, when she dreamt of being a child helping a man with a beard assemble some sort of mechanism, she had no explanation. He'd felt so familiar to her – she'd tugged on that beard before. She'd been in that room, with all those spare parts, countless times.

Her concerns with the impending visions that would greet her when she closed her eyes mixed with the secret she'd been holding out from each of her fellow travelers to make her especially quiet that evening as she prepared their meals. It was, McCoy claimed, too hot for a fire and he received no push-back from the group, even though Jokusho didn't feel that warm. She knew, from having spent the past few days with the three Enterprise crew members, that none of them were acclimated to heat and humidity like what they were experiencing here on Celos-D42. Rather than cook by fire, Jokusho used a phaser to cook the meat for the night meal, adding leaves from one of the indigenous trees to wrap the meat and some local fruits, so they weren't just tasting phaser burn. The whole thing ("A leafy taco!" Scotty had declared with his usual enthusiasm) turned out better than she had expected and she ignored Doctor McCoy's suspicious looks at the food, as well as his insistence on scanning his "taco" before he ate it. She was getting used to his cautious, cantankerous ways.

As Uhura, Jokusho and McCoy sat facing one another, eating their dinners thoughtfully, Scotty once again grew annoyed as the com links went down for the fifth or sixth time that hour. Scotty's frustrated ranting drew McCoy's attention away from Jokusho worrying at her lower lip with her teeth, which was a relief because McCoy didn't need to be thinking about how plump and soft that damn woman's lips were anyway. Scotty had inhaled his dinner and promptly attempted to comm Chekov on the ship when the conversation was abruptly cut off. Jokusho was starting to wonder if anyone on the Enterprise besides Uhura spoke Standard without a thick accent.

"Yer sure tisn't seismic activity?" he asked McCoy who was scanning the planet for any seismic shifts. They had experienced several tremors over the past few days, but nothing like the quake that had sent them running into the forest. And Scotty had rigged their tricorders to sound an alarm when seismic shifts began so that they could brace themselves. The fact that no alarms had sounded was further proof that the planet's activity wasn't linked to the com losses.

"Sorry," McCoy said, showing the impatient engineer his tricorder readings. "No changes to note."

"We've gotta figure this oot," Scotty mumbled dejectedly. "The captain insists on sending people back to the ship and we're gonna end up losing crew members to the ether if this happens during a transport. As it is, Chekov sent me a message earlier sayin' they almost lost a group o' five tryin' ta beam back aboard the ship. "

"To Hell with that," McCoy muttered. "I'll live on this planet before I get stuck in some transporter beam forever."

"It's not the planet's plate shifts!" Jokusho said suddenly, no longer able to remain silent. She wasn't sure what had come over her. These were supposed to be her enemies – why was she telling them anything that could help them? McCoy instantly turned his glare to her and she looked away from him, not relishing the prospect of confirming all his worst theories about her.

"What do you mean?" Uhura asked.

"If it's not the planet, what is it?" Scotty demanded.

"It is the planet," Jokusho replied, her eyes on the ground. "Just not the planet's quakes – not exactly."

She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at Scotty while she confessed. She would not be cowardly and she'd accept whatever punishment they might dole out to her for not telling them sooner.

"When you showed me your schematics today – they aren't current. This planet contains large amounts of obslivium."

Scotty paled as her words sunk in. Still, he pressed for more. "Obslivium wouldn't mess with our com links unless…."

"Unless someone were to mine for it, in bulk," Jokusho finished his sentence quietly.

"Someone want to tell the rest of us what this means?" McCoy cut in. Both Scotty and Jokusho ignored him.

"If yer mining it…that means the ship –"

"Is in danger of orbit decay. You have to get through to your captain – get the ship to pull out of orbit for now."

"Wait one damn second," McCoy interrupted once more, rising to his feet to stand between Scotty and Jokusho, fixing his best 'take no shit' glare on Scotty. "We don't do a fucking thing she tells us unless we agree on it as a group."

"The raid…it was just a cover," Uhura spoke slowly as she pieced together what she understood from the conversation between Scotty and Jokusho.

All three crew members had tried, over the past several days, and in their own ways, to pull from Jokusho exactly what it was the Klingons had hoped to accomplish in their raid. Now, things were starting to fall into place.

"A cover for what?" McCoy cried out in exasperation. "Will someone tell me what the fuck is happening?" Jokusho opened her mouth to respond and he gave her a look. "Someone who's not her," he clarified, ignoring the way she bit her lower lip.

"The Klingons aren't here just to raid the planet," Uhura explained. "They're mining obs…whatever it was."

"Obslivium," Scotty answered. "Our ships run on dilithium. But Klingon ships…."

"We use obslivium," Jokusho confirmed.

"And the thing about obslivium and dilithium is they're very volatile when they come close to one another," Scotty added.

"They have a… magnetic… pull towards each other," Jokusho said, checking with Scotty that she was using the right word and briefly smiling when he nodded at her. She immediately sobered as she continued speaking. "When both are refined, they lose some of those more volatile features."

"Which is why our ships don't just crash into Klingon ships when we happen upon each other," Scotty continued.

"No, of course not," McCoy deadpanned. "We count on blowing each other up instead."

Jokusho winced. "But with the amount of obslivium we intended to mine – that we're most likely mining from the planet…"

Scotty picked up where she left off. "The Enterprise is at serious risk. Anything using dilithium is liable to be sucked into the atmosphere and pulled down to the surface."

"So how's that tied to the com links?" McCoy asked.

"All of our power routes through the dilithium chamber of the ship. So our comms, our ability to transport – right now, with Celosian comms damaged in the quakes…well, it's all programed to rely on the ship's dilithium supplies," Scotty responded.

McCoy now understood the magnitude of the problem. "We've got to tell Jim before we lose communication altogether and the ship starts to get pulled in."

"Exactly," Uhura replied.

It was growing dark and the foursome looked at each other.

"My God," McCoy muttered. "We've been letting her walk amongst us and this whole time, she's been waiting for our ship to crash."

"That's not true," Jokusho also rose from her seat on a log to defend herself, her cheeks flushed and her large eyes flashing. Nyota and Scotty stood as well.

"Len," Uhura said softly. "We wouldn't know about this if not for her."

"Took her four goddamn days to finally tell us the truth. What if it's too late to save the ship?" McCoy's eyes were blazing.

"It's not too late," Jokusho replied, hoping she was right. "You were just talking to the ship and they didn't mention any orbit decay."

"She's got a point." Scotty conceded. "Ships as big as the Enterprise don't just fall right out of the sky."

McCoy was tempted to remind Scotty of what had happened with Khan just above San Francisco but he kept the barb to himself because it wouldn't help the situation right now to bring up past traumas – especially that one.

"Lass, do the Celosians know about the deposits of obslivium?" Scotty asked Jokusho.

"I don't think so," she replied. "They certainly didn't know when they sent Starfleet the schematics you have."

"Then how did you all know about them?" Uhura asked.

"We've been monitoring the planet for a while now," Jokusho answered and Uhura raised her eyebrow in a silent request to explain.

Jokusho sighed. "Boreth is the main source of obslivium for the Klingon Empire. But our deposits are almost completely gone so we've started to look elsewhere."

"How did yeh know to look here?" Scotty inquired.

Knowing that she'd already told the officers too much, Jokusho figured she might as well continue.

"Before the Klingon Empire solidified into what it is now, Klingons were not so isolationist. There was a time, maybe 200 years ago, when Klingons left our own planets and co-habitated with other species on various planets. One of those planets was Celos-D42. When the Empire began to gain strength, Klingons either killed those they shared planets with or they left to return to their own planets. The Klingons who left Celos D-42 returned to Boreth. They brought a lot of plant and animal life with them and found that the species they'd transplanted from Celos to Boreth did well. The planets shared many traits so Celos was a logical place to look when we realized our obslivium supply was running out."

"Why didn't you just ask the Celosians nicely if you could mine for…obvious-rock or whatever it's called?" McCoy asked.

"We did ask them. They refused," Jokusho replied.

"Can't say I blame them," McCoy muttered and she shot him a withering glance. "So rather than take no for an answer, you decided to come here anyway and just take what isn't yours?"

"They are not using it," Jokusho said defensively. "Our way of life revolves around being able to travel in space –"

"So you can terrorize everyone else," McCoy said under his breath but loud enough for everyone to hear. Jokusho ignored him.

"We can't protect ourselves if we don't have ships and we won't have ships without obslivium," Jokusho finished.

"When you asked the Celosians for permission to mine the planet, did you tell them what you'd be mining for?" Uhura asked, focusing on Scotty's original concern – whether the Celosians had intentionally asked for Starfleet's help while harboring a raw substance known to be harmful to Starfleet ships.

"We were not specific about what we wanted," Jokusho said evasively and at the look Uhura gave her, she elaborated. "We worried if we told them exactly what we wanted, they would charge us an exorbitant amount to mine it."

"Much better to come in, disruptors fully charged, and take it with no recompense," McCoy observed and while no one verbally agreed with him, Jokusho could feel the silent rebuke of the other two officers.

Scotty finally ended the awkward silence. "Well, at least we know the Celosians weren't trickin' us when they asked for our help."

"So, what do we do now?" McCoy grumbled, still wishing they had some rope or something to tie up their Klingon sympathizer.

"I can monitor the com links to see when they come back up and send an urgent message to the captain and the ship when they do," Scotty replied. "Other than that, I think we'd best get some sleep for the night."

"Scotty, you don't have to monitor the com links alone. We can take shifts," Uhura suggested. "You take the first two hours. I'll take the next two."

"And I can take the shift after that," McCoy volunteered. "By the time my shift's done, we ought to be on the way to the city once more."

He looked over at Jokusho. "Feel free to let us know if there's any other disaster your people might be creating, will ya?"

She glared at him in return.


	10. Chapter 10

Twenty-five years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

Katbujo watched from an upstairs window as her husband returned from the latest raid. She knew their eldest son, T'udrok, wouldn't be returning with him but it didn't stop the ache she felt inside.

She gazed as her husband emptied the shuttle he'd filled with personal loot from the raid and when a small biobed floated out, her eyes widened. She rushed down the stairs and into the courtyard.

" _What is this_?" she demanded as she stood by the biobed with the unconscious child on it.

" _Our revenge_ ," Hus answered simply. " _And thank you for the warm welcome_."

" _Don't you joke around with me right now_ ," Katbujo hissed as she came around and stood before her husband. " _Tell me why there's a living human on my property_."

Hus gestured to the child. " _Her mother killed our son, so I took her child. And, as I killed her, I told her I would raise her child as my own – raise it to hate humans, to hate Starfleet, to hate the Federation_." He stopped unpacking the shuttle and gave his wife a tired look.

" _I'm a man of my word and I intend to keep this child. She cannot replace T'udrok, but turning her against her own will go a long way to making up for his noble death_."

" _Did you stop to consider whether I'd be willing to bring a human – and the child of the person who murdered my son, no less – into my home_?" Katbujo asked, enraged at her husband's spontaneous and thoughtless actions.

Hus sighed. " _I did indeed realize you would not be happy with my decision. Which is why Korgihl is on his way here_."

" _Why is the family doctor coming_?" Katbujo asked tightly, half out of curiosity and the other half still seething anger.

" _I want him to replace her memories_ ," he gestured to the child.

Katbujo made a noise akin to a snort.

" _You want him to use a sifter or a thought maker on her? She will not survive the process_ ," she replied.

" _Perhaps not. In which case, you have nothing to worry about_ ," Hus said mildly, turning back to the work of unloading the shuttle. " _But if she lives_ …"

" _She will have no memory of her life to this point_?" Katbujo asked, knowing the answer already.

" _Indeed_ ," Hus confirmed. " _She will be ours to mold into whatever we desire her to be_." Seeing his wife peer down at the girl in the biobed, he continued. " _You would like her, my dear. She has the same feistiness in her that I have always admired in you_."

He came up behind his wife and put his arms around her waist, only hesitating for a moment. If she wanted to hit him, he'd let her. But she yielded and allowed him to hold her.

" _I know how much the miscarriages after Drel'ak have haunted you. I know you wanted another girl. And since we cannot have one on our own, I have found another way to give you what you want_."

Katbujo took a shuddering deep breath. " _This is not what I wanted_ ," she murmured. " _I did not wish to trade our eldest for a human child_."

Her words hurt Hus which had been her intention. He pulled away from her. Hus knew she blamed him for their son's death and no amount of commendation on their son's heroic death would make her feel better. He'd been there and watched his son bleed out from the knife wounds inflicted by the young girl's mother. He could never admit it to his wife, but the death hadn't felt heroic to him either. Still, he didn't regret taking the child alive. He hadn't been lying – this child was a fighter. After he had first stabbed her mother, the child had come out of her hiding place, yelling. He'd been impressed by the tiny girl's spirit. If she could live through the procedure to alter her memories, she would make a fine addition to their home, even if she could never fully be Klingon.

Katbujo stalked back into the house, leaving her husband to finish his tasks. She wanted nothing to do with the child and nothing to do with her husband for the moment.

* * *

" _I don't know if she'll survive_ ," Korgihl said to Hus with some nervousness. They both stared down at the child on the biobed, wrestling with unknown demons in her induced state of unconsciousness.

" _How long before we know if the procedure was successful_?" Hus asked, his face placid. Either she'd live or she'd die and there was nothing he could do so why allow himself to feel emotions at this point?

" _It's hard to say. I've never used a thought maker on someone so young. I'd guess she'll be out for the next couple of days_ ," Korgihl responded, packing his bag to leave.

Hus stared at the child. She hadn't been awake since he'd given her a hypo of sedatives on Meestos. Before that, she'd fought him violently – violent for one so small and human. She'd kicked and bit, looking for purchase wherever she could find it, resisting him as he picked her up and held her in front of her dying mother. It had only been at the sound of the incomprehensible babble of her mother that the child had quieted and stopped squirming against him. And then the mother, with her dying breaths, had started singing to the child. As she sang to her daughter, Hus lowered himself to the slouched woman, making eye contact with her. When she had lost the ability to sing, but was still alive, still able to comprehend what was happening around her – that was when he'd told her what he would do to her daughter. He ran his bat'leth through her one final time, to ensure her death and the child's shrieks as he did it would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. He turned away from the woman who had killed his son while her child kicked and struggled in his arms, her cries unabated. Hus knew he needed to keep her quiet, lest she draw too much attention and wind up dead, a prize for a successful raid.

After Korgihl left, the unconscious child was moved into the house. Hus had not asked Katbujo's permission as the two had not spoken since their stand-off by the shuttle. He was too tired to fight her anyway. If she wanted to smother the child in its sleep, so be it.

He went to his study and sat down at his desk with a thud. There were many things he needed to attend to from his absence but the first thing he wanted to do was look up exactly who the girl's parents had been.

* * *

Katbujo awoke to the sound of a child crying in the middle of the night. It was instinctual to get out of bed and find the child to sooth them and she was halfway down the hallway before she remembered that none of her own children had awakened her in the night with their cries for years. Drel'ak, her youngest, was seven and though she knew he occasionally had nightmares, she never heard a peep from him. Like his brothers before him, he'd been taught at a tender age that Klingon men did not cry. Though the muffled sobs Katbujo had heard coming from Hus's study after he returned from this latest raid were proof enough that Klingon men did cry on occasion. They had begun to warm up to one another in the days since his return and he had finally returned to their marital bed.

Katbujo realized the cry was coming from the source of so much of the tension between herself and her husband – the room where the little human girl had been left, four days ago after Korgihl had used the thought maker on her. So the human was awake now. Katbujo debated returning to her bed but the plaintive cries of the child were too similar to those of her own children. Without wanting to, she continued to the child's room and opened the door.

The girl was sitting in the bed they had moved her to, her fists in balls and large tears spilling out of her eyes. Her cry stopped when she saw Katbujo's outline in the doorway.

" _Mama_?" she cried. " _I had a bad dream_."

Had it really worked? Here was a tiny human speaking to her in perfect Klingon. Katbujo approached the bed more out of perverse curiosity than any feeling of maternal affection.

" _What did you dream, child_?"

" _I can't remember – I just know it scared me_."

Katbujo sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and the child took that as invitation to scramble into her lap.

" _Hold me_? _Till I fall asleep_?" the little girl begged and in that moment, with the child's arms clasped around her neck, Katbujo knew they would never turn the child away. She was theirs now and Katbujo would do what she could to help the human girl navigate life as a Klingon.

In the morning, Hus found his wife in the child's room, asleep next to the little girl. Katbujo would never tell him he had been right to take her but she did ask him what they should name their youngest child and, together, they chose Jokusho.

* * *

" _Everything looks to be fine with her brain patterns. It's hard to say with humans – they only have one brain. As such, it's a bit bigger than a single Klingon brain would be. But they seem to otherwise operate similarly and based on the patterns I see in my scans, the memory erasure and replacement was a success_."

Korgihl spoke quietly, aware that the subject of his words was liable to come running into Hus's office at any moment.

" _Is there anything we should be wary of_?" Hus asked, pleased at the doctor's diagnosis. Somewhere in the house, he could hear Jokusho laughing with Astori and Drel'ak.

" _Sometimes, memories are triggered by actions or places the child was exposed to before the thought maker was used. Seeing as you've brought her to a new environment, with a different species, I doubt that will be an issue_."

" _But I should make sure she doesn't receive exposure to anything regarding Meestos or her parents_?"

" _That would be wise_." The doctor regarded Hus shrewdly. " _You have quite an uphill battle, you know_."

Hus fixed his gaze on Korgihl. " _How so_? _You think she'll reject the replacement memories_?"

The doctor shook his head and took a sip of the bloodwine Hus had poured him at the start of their meeting.

" _No, I think she's settling in quite well_ ," he paused and they both heard children's laughter floating in. " _She seems happy with her new life. I'm not worried about her. I'm worried about how everyone will receive her_."

Hus scoffed. " _She's my daughter. As head of the most powerful house on Boreth, I think I have something to say about any mistreatment of my children_."

Korgihl clucked his tongue at the other Klingon. " _No one will outright harm her – they're too smart for that. But they will treat her differently, Hus. You need to be ready for that – and you need to prepare her for it as well_."

Hus considered the doctor's words as Korgihl finished his bloodwine. He stood and Hus stood as well.

" _I have to be going. Kor has requested my presence at a medical conference on Qo'noS_ ," Korgihl said as he gathered his things.

" _Qo'noS? That's quite a distance to go for a meeting with other doctors_ ," Hus mused.

" _I know. But Kor heard about this idea of adapting human augmentation to Klingons and he's become obsessed with it. I keep telling him it'll never work but he's determined that I listen to the theories and, at the end of the day, it's not like I can refuse the man_."

Hus nodded his head, knowing how impossible it was to turn Kor down when he was set on a particular course of action. The men parted ways and Hus sat down to continue his work but instead, he listened to the voices of his children, shouting and laughing with one another. Jokusho's voice blended in so perfectly. It was almost as though she'd always been there, just another member of the family.


	11. Chapter 11

Scotty set up a workstation, of sorts, away from where the other three had unrolled their sleep pads. McCoy had been fortunate to grab four survival kits from the medical post before it had blown up. The sleep pads in each kit had ensured a slightly more comfortable sleep for the group than just sleeping on the ground. But Jokusho wrestled with sleep – having both a hard time falling asleep and an even harder time going back to sleep after the vivid dreams of a life she had no memory of kept waking her up. If these dreams were actual memories of the parents she'd never known, what had caused them to abandon her? Because everything she'd dreamt the past several nights led her to think these people had loved her – cherished her. How did she end up with Hus? She finally arose from her pad and crept away from the encampment. She'd been doing this for the last couple of nights, needing to walk off the emotions her dreams left.

Standing in a clearing not far from the camp, she froze as she heard twigs snapping behind her. She spun around with her arm out to hit whoever was creeping up behind her. But her attacker was fast and ducked away from her arm, grabbing it and twisting it behind her back. Jokusho allowed the man (it had to be a man – a human man – even though the darkness obscured his face, he was too bulky to be a woman and too short to be a Klingon) to pull her closer and when she saw what she hoped was his foot, she stomped on it, causing him to release her. Before she could get away, he grabbed her again and despite her struggles, he pulled her close against him. Jokusho continued wiggling to get away from the unknown man, planning her next move, one that would likely result in some broken bones for the assailant when his voice stilled her.

"What're you doing out here?" McCoy whispered in a hostile tone. She jerked her head to the right to get away from the feel of his breath on her ear but he felt the goosebumps form on her arms, underneath his hands. Jokusho felt a slight relief. She'd assumed her attacker was a stranger, not the grumpy doctor. She wouldn't fight him, no matter how unpleasant he was with her. He was a healer, after all. Not to mention, Scotty and Uhura would never forgive her if she mistreated their friend. She did her best to relax in his arms, hoping he'd see she meant him no harm but his grip on her remained tight.

"I had a bad dream," she replied. "I wanted to walk."

He turned her around so she was facing him.

"You think I'm gonna believe that?" he snarled. "You think I don't know you've been getting up the last two nights and wandering off from camp? What are you really doing? Contacting your friends?"

Her eyes widened and he gave her a satisfied smirk. "What? You think I didn't hear the taps from the woods that night in the medical post?"

"No, I didn't," she replied truthfully. "And even if you had, I didn't think you spoke Klingon."

He relaxed his grip on her ever so slightly.

"I don't," he said. "But I know a code when I hear it. No animal I know of taps that rhythmically for that long."

"If you're so aware of what I've been doing the past few nights, you must know I haven't been tapping out codes here in the dark," Jokusho replied defiantly.

McCoy let her go but didn't back up or otherwise give her any space. "I know you're not using codes through sounds. What is it? Are you using mirrors?"

Jokusho held her arms extended out to the sides. "I have nothing on me besides the clothes I'm wearing. If you don't believe me, check."

McCoy was just as stubborn as she was so he did exactly as she ordered and patted her down, searching for anything she could use to communicate with others in the dark woods.

"This is ridiculous," Jokusho complained as he ran his hands down her chest. She was glad the darkness hid the warmth that flooded her cheeks as his hands brushed her breasts through her shirt.

"What's ridiculous is letting you run around free," McCoy snapped, avoiding looking up at her face. He hated how good her body felt beneath his hands. Why was she so fucking beautiful and why had he gotten stuck with her? He never should have stopped her when she was trying to escape.

As he patted her down, being more thorough than she'd anticipated, she asked him who was monitoring the com links while he was harassing her.

"You'd know about harassment, wouldn't you?" he muttered as he ran his hands down her left leg then moved to her right leg. "I've got the PADD with me. It'll ping me if the comms go back up."

After he'd searched her he pulled away slightly.

"So what is it? Why are you getting up and leaving the camp at night?" he stared hard at her and as the night began to shift towards early morning, she was able to make out more of him out in the shadows. She was always drawn to his eyes. Even now, when it was still too dark to make out their color, she still found herself staring at them, perhaps wishing they weren't always so full of distrust when they were on her.

"I haven't been sleeping well," she admitted. "I wasn't lying earlier. My dreams have been…upsetting…the last few nights."

"Upsetting how?" he asked. "You worried you're gonna end up captured and killed by your people like the rest of us?"

She rolled her eyes.

"No," she said impatiently. "It's not that –"

Before she could finish, another rustling sound came from the bushes to her right.

"That's not Scotty or Uhura," McCoy whispered as he pulled her to him with one arm and grabbed the phaser from his belt with the other. Jokusho did her best to ignore the fact that he held the phaser to her, as if a threat to kill her would deter Klingons if it were them crawling around in the underbrush.

"No," she agreed. "I don't think it's human."

He looked down at her. "Your friends?"

"Uh-uh," she replied. "Pretty sure it's an animal of some sort."

They both stared at the brush, watching it shake as whatever was in it moved once more. Jokusho caught a glimpse of needles protruding from it and froze once more.

"No sudden movements," she whispered as quietly as she could. "And don't say anything."

She could feel his heart racing as he pulled her back against his chest. It was beating as hard as hers was.

"What is it?" he asked softly and the sound of his voice drew the creature out from the foliage it had been hiding in.

"Looks like a damn porcupine," McCoy muttered and Jokusho cringed.

"Shut up," she admonished him as loudly as she dared. "It can't see very well but its hearing is excellent."

"You know what that thing is?" he asked incredulously, trying to back up with her.

She didn't respond, the animal moving closer to them, drawn, undoubtedly, by the sounds of their voices.

She'd grown up around swart'hals. On Boreth, they were considered an invasive species and hunted regularly. Over time, Klingons would build up an immunity to their needles. And so had she. But she remembered how painful and dangerous it had been the first time she'd been stung. She took a guess that McCoy had never encountered a swart'hal based on the sheer amount of noise he was willing to make and it worried her because she wasn't sure a human adult who had never been stung would live through an attack. Better to avoid it if they could.

But McCoy, normally sensitive to the dangers presented by unknown creatures, was both tired and suspicious of his companion so he didn't heed her admonition to stay quiet.

"What is it?" he asked again, his voice louder and the only thing Jokusho could think to do in order to shut him up was to slowly and quietly – so quietly – turn around to face him and put her hand over his mouth. Unfortunately, he had time to see what she was planning to do and he jerked away from her hand.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, not bothering at all to keep his voice down and Jokusho groaned as she watched his eyes move away from her to something behind her – the swart'hal. His eyes widened and she braced herself to feel the needles in her back. It was going to suck but she'd manage. And he was a doctor so certainly, he could help take care of –

But then the idiot moved out from behind her, realizing the same thing she had – the animal was about to swing its body and embed its needles into her. In some misplaced display of heroism, McCoy stepped around her before Jokusho could tell him to stay put.

She cursed in Klingon as she turned to see him take the brunt of the attack. Jokusho no longer had to worry about moving quickly or making noise as the swart'hal immediately laid down on its side in something akin to a state of hibernation – a state it would not rise from until it had regrown the needles it had cast off into Doctor McCoy. Jokusho looked at the man who had fallen to his knees in front of her.

"You moron," she chided him. "The needles would not affect me like they will yourself. You should have let it hit me instead."

"Now ya tell me," he said woosily, the poison from the needles that had embedded in his skin already taking effect. She assessed the damage as she helped him back to his feet. He was lucky he'd been wearing one of the survival pack jackets – even though it was an extra layer none of them wanted in this heat, it also kept them from being bitten by mosquitos and the crew members wore them at night. Some of the needles hadn't made it past the jacket. But enough had ended up in his chest that Jokusho was genuinely concerned. She knew she could remove them – and she needed to do it quickly. But he was the doctor – who was going to tell them whether he would pull through? One thing was certain.

"Do not close your eyes," she commanded him as he leaned, heavily, against her. "Whatever you do, you cannot let yourself fall asleep."

"The needles are poisoned?" he asked with great effort.

"Yes," she breathed, finding it difficult to hold up his weight and move them both forward at the same time. "If you succumb to them, you may not wake up."

"Can you remove the needles?"

"Yes," she replied, winded from the few steps they'd taken.

"Do it now," he advised her.

"But the camp –"

"We don't have time," he told her. "I can feel it already and I'm not gonna make it back there."

He was right so she did her best to clear out a space he could lie down on. Jokusho propped his head up on a flat rock.

"Ow," he complained.

"No sleeping," she said in response. Gingerly, she pulled his jacket away from his chest. In all, she had 10 long needles she needed to pull from his skin.

"This will hurt," she warned him. "But I need you to stay as relaxed as you can."

"Yell to Scotty and Uhura to bring my med kit," he slurred and she did as he asked. It took the other two some time to find them but once they did, they knelt beside Jokusho and McCoy.

"What can we do to help?" Uhura asked.

Jokusho thought for a moment and asked for a PADD. Quickly, faster than she knew she was capable of moving, she pulled up the ingredients – all plant-based – for a compress that would help McCoy heal after she'd pulled the needles out of his chest.

"Find me all of these plants and boil them together until they make a paste. It'll help him after I'm done."

"We can't just give him something?" Scotty asked, looking at the hypos in the med kit.

"No," Jokusho admitted. "He has to stay awake so we can't give him any sedatives. Can't give him any stimulants either because he has to relax as much as he can. That way it won't hurt as much when I remove the needles."

Uhura took a second to look at Jokusho, sizing up how confident she should feel about the other woman's abilities to save the CMO. She spoke after a beat.

"Come on, Scotty. Let's get these plants and start boiling them."

Jokusho looked at McCoy's face and hit his arm when she saw his eyes closed.

"Dammit, what'd you do that for?" he complained. "I'm in enough pain as it is."

"I said no sleeping," she admonished him once more.

"Wasn't sleeping," he countered drowsily. "Just restin' my eyes."

She snorted.

"You want to die, be my guest," Jokusho murmured as she grabbed the first needle to pull from McCoy's chest. Keeping him distracted was good. She needed him more focused on sparring with her than the needles in his chest.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he grumbled. "Won't give you the satisfaction, my dear."

At that, Jokusho pushed the needle down a centimeter, to disconnect the barb on the end of it from the layers of skin it had connected with and then yanked it out quickly. McCoy let out a startled and pained yelp.

"My God, are they all gonna feel like that?" he panted.

"Worse," she said honestly.

"Bedside manner could use some work," McCoy grunted.

"You're one to talk," Jokusho gently ribbed him, while she grabbed another needle and began working. "It's a wonder your patients don't choose death over listening to you holler at them."

The moment he felt the pressure of her hand on the needle, he sucked in a breath in anticipation of the pain.

"You're tensing up now that you know what it feels like. Try to counteract that impulse if you can."

"Dammit, I'm not an Augment," he groaned as she disengaged the second barb and tugged the needle out of him.

Jokusho realized he needed a distraction – a good one. She took a deep breath.

"Remember how you wanted to tell me about my parents?" she asked, bringing her face above his so he could make eye contact with her. He nodded weakly.

"That's what my dreams have been about – ever since you offered to tell me about them, I think I've been remembering bits and pieces of them in my sleep."

He didn't even notice when she pulled out the third needle. Good. Seven more to go. She hoped this distraction would last.

"Will you tell me about them now?" she asked McCoy and she didn't even have to fake the curiousness she was feeling.

"You sure?" he asked, a light sweat breaking out on his forehead as his body continued to combat the poison spreading through it.

"Please," she demanded. "Tell me what you found out from Starfleet. I want to know if the dreams I'm having are real."

"Okay, darlin'," he sighed as she pulled out another needle.

"What's a darlin?" she asked as she extracted the next needle. He cursed at the pain.

"Dar-ling," he said slowly, enunciating the word in a way he never usually did. "It's a…term of endearment, I guess."

They could hear Scotty and Uhura behind them, at the campsite, starting a fire to boil the plants they were collecting.

"A term of endearment?" she asked thoughtfully. "Are you saying I'm something dear to you?" Jokusho meant to tease him but the question came out sounding much more sincere than she'd intended and she looked away from his face, blushing.

"Don't get too excited. I call everyone darlin' at some point."

"Do not, you big liar!" Uhura called out from several meters away. McCoy muttered something about busybodies with hearing too good to be true in reply. "The plants are boiling nicely," she directed at Jokusho. Still embarrassed about her unintended earnestness towards the injured doctor in her care, Jokusho could do nothing more than nod her head towards Nyota before trying to refocus on the task at hand.

If Jokusho pulled the next needle out with a little more force than necessary, she would never admit it.

"You tryin' to kill me?" McCoy asked, raising his head off the rock to look down at her work.

"Tell me about my parents," was her only response as she continued to avoid his gaze.

"Whaddya wanna know?" McCoy's voice was garbled and his head lolled to the side, his eyes closed.

Jokusho slapped his face.

"Goddammit, you hit me again and I'm gonna hit you back," he growled as his eyes snapped open.

"You fall asleep and you won't have the chance to hit me," Jokusho hissed at him, pulling another needle out of his chest. There were three left and she was beginning to think McCoy would be okay. She hoped he would.

"Your dad…he was an engineer. Worked for Starfleet. Scotty could tell you all about him, I'm sure."

"Did he know him?" Jokusho asked, mid-tug.

"Naw, Scotty was a kid when – they never met. But your dad helped develop several theories of warp core containment that they're still teaching at the Academy now."

"And my mother?" She removed another needle. One left. Uhura and Scotty joined them with the boiled plants, which had made a thick, pungent paste.

"The compress is ready," Uhura said softly while Scotty eyed the bloody disarray that was McCoy's chest.

"How long for the plant mess?" he asked Jokusho, skeptical of the healing power of boiled leaves.

"Long enough for it to pull the poison out," McCoy answered instead.

"Perhaps 10 or 15 minutes," Jokusho added.

"After that, we'll wash the wounds and use the dermal regenerator," McCoy said, looking at Jokusho for approval. She nodded her assent as she quickly yanked on the last needle.

"Ow," McCoy yelped. "Is that the last of them?"

"Yes," she replied softly. "But the poison's still in your system so you still need to stay awake."

"Yeah, yeah. I got it. Don't hit me again, alright?" The weariness in McCoy's voice did something to Jokusho's insides but rather than make a bigger fool of herself than she already had, she busied herself with the plant paste compress, spreading it across his chest.

"For God's sake," McCoy snapped. "That's hot as hell!"

"Stop bitching so much, Len," Uhura chided him. "She's just trying to save your life, you big baby."

"I'd like to see how you handle having a bunch of needles pulled out of your skin," McCoy grumbled and Nyota laughed.

"I'll bet I'd be a lot nicer to the woman helping me," she replied with a wink to Jokusho.

"Lass has a point, Doctor," Scotty joined in. "You doona make a very good patient, you know."

"What is this? Everyone-gang-up-on-McCoy time?" the doctor grumbled. "Which one of us is fighting for his life again?"

Uhura rolled her eyes and made a snappy comeback. Jokusho remained quiet, listening to the three friends banter. She wanted something like this. Friendships that were easy – teasing that was gentle and full of love and respect. The more time she spent with these people, the more she questioned the life she'd known to that point. To keep herself from wandering too far down a morose path of thought, she concentrated on applying the compress.

McCoy seemed to have forgotten about their conversation regarding her parents and as long as the other two were keeping him awake and in good spirits, Jokusho couldn't bring herself to remind him that he hadn't told her about her mother.

* * *

"The com links are back up," Scotty called out excitedly from the camp, having taken the PADD from McCoy.

Uhura looked over at Jokusho. They had just finished cleaning the compress off of McCoy and washing his wounds.

"You okay to handle regenerating without me?" she asked the other woman. "I'd like to help Scotty with the comms we need to make."

"Of course," Jokusho replied.

"You'll be nice while I'm gone?" Nyota asked McCoy and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm always nice," he protested and Ny laughed as she got up and walked away.

Alone with McCoy again, Jokusho looked at the dermal regenerator. "You can show me how to use this?" she asked.

"Wouldn't be much of a doctor if I couldn't," he retorted.

"Can you just tell me what to do?" she demanded in exasperation.

McCoy explained to her how to use the device and she began to run it over his wounds, watching as they shrunk and were replaced by new, pink skin. She turned the device off and looked McCoy.

"You can finally go to sleep now," she murmured, offering to help him up.

He took her outstretched hand and got up with a moan.

"Come on," Jokusho guided him, her arm around his torso. They hobbled back to the camp together, where McCoy's sleep pad was still out. Uhura and Scotty were at Scotty's makeshift table and they could hear the two voices in discussion with others about what they'd learned the night before.

Jokusho helped McCoy onto his pad.

"Thanks," he spoke, every word an effort at this point.

"I'm sorry we can't give you something for the pain," she replied.

"I'll be fine," he assured her and as she made a move to get up and leave him, he grabbed her arm.

"Your mom," he whispered. "She was a singer – opera singer. Pretty famous one at that."

She couldn't help staring at him – his eyes were on her as well.

"I know," she admitted. "I've seen and heard her in my dreams." So it WAS real – all of it. The office overrun with strange items that her father tinkered with, her mom's beautiful voice filling the house – her dreams were memories and the people in them had been real. They had loved her.

She watched as he winced – breathing too deeply would be painful for the next hour or so.

"You should sleep," she cautioned him. "We can talk more when you feel better."

"Your name," he wheezed.

"They call me Keebs in my dreams," Jokusho replied, tears threatening to cloud her vision.

"A nickname," McCoy mused, thinking of how it suited her. "Your name was Shakeba Massoud."

She said nothing in response and he closed his eyes, releasing his grip on her.

"It still is," she said quietly as his breathing evened out and he fell asleep.

When his breathing evened out and she was certain he was in a deep enough sleep, Jokusho reached out and brushed his hair off his forehead. He was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, the most handsome human she'd ever laid eyes on. And asleep like this, his face no longer held so much of the irritability she'd grown accustomed to dealing with from him. In sleep, he looked younger, care-free, and kind. She longed to touch his cheeks, trace the outline of his lips with her finger. Instead, she turned and pulled herself away from him. She had enough to deal with and mooning over the man who criticized her every move would do her no good. Still, thinking about Doctor McCoy was preferable to thinking about the parents she'd never known. Had Hus and Katbujo lied to her? What from her life among the Klingons had been genuine?


	12. Chapter 12

Twenty years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

" _She has a gift, Hus. Why not let her use it_?" Katbujo asked patiently while her husband paced the bedroom floor. If he didn't stop, he was going to wear a path into the carpet.

" _If we let her continue, she's more likely to remember her father_ ," he snapped in return. " _We discussed this already_."

" _No, we didn't. We discussed not letting her sing and I agreed to that because of her mother's distinctive voice. We never said anything about keeping her from scholarly pursuits_."

" _I figured it went without saying that if we were going to discourage the singing, we'd discourage other tendencies she gets from the humans_."

" _Well, how are we supposed to know which qualities of hers are her own versus from her parents, dear_?"

Katbujo gave her husband a smile though it did little to remove the scowl from his face.

" _Her father was a Starfleet scientist. That ought to be enough to dissuade her from these foolish experiments. Besides, science is for the weak – those who cannot fight_."

Katbujo sighed.

" _What would you have her do instead, love_?  _She will never be as strong as a true Klingon. She is not meant to be a warrior. Why not let her indulge her intelligence_?"

Hus gave a huff of dissatisfaction but said nothing in response.

" _Jokusho loves us_ ," Katbujo continued. " _She's a happy child. Why not let that continue_?  _What if it's just a phase and she grows out of it naturally_?"

" _And what if she doesn't_?" he retorted. " _What if she remembers who her father was_?"

" _It's been five years_ ," Katbujo cajoled. " _Hus, you need to let her be who she's going to be_."

Katbujo hadn't been a fan of the decision to curtail her youngest daughter's interest in singing. She'd understood why Hus felt so strongly about it – the girl's birth mother was famous enough that even a handful of Klingons had heard her sing. Wanting to protect Jokusho from the memories of her mother's death, Katbujo had reluctantly agreed to allow her husband full reign in repelling the young girl from singing. But she had no intention of keeping Jokusho from following a path that would keep the girl happy and safe.

" _Why does it have to be science_?  _Can't you teach her Mok'bara_?"

Katbujo rolled her eyes.

" _Both she and Astori already come with me to Mok'bara sessions_ ," she chided her husband. " _But that's not enough to build a life on_."

" _And you think she should build a life on science_?"

" _Don't be so condescending. You need to acknowledge that she's different from us. She's not a Klingon_."

" _She's my daughter_!" Hus's reply was almost savage.

" _Yes, mine too_ ," Katbujo reminded him, keeping her cool. " _And you know I love her. I love her enough to understand that we cannot force her into a traditional Klingon lifestyle. She's a smart girl. Smartest in her class. Let her explore books. Let her find something that interests her_."

" _She will be the laughingstock of the town_ ," Hus grumbled, but it was then that Katbujo realized she'd gotten her way.

" _What if she ends up inventing something to save all of us, hmmm_?  _Will she be the town joke then_?" Katbujo reached out and Hus grudgingly took her hand, allowing her to pull him close.

" _She's already so different. We let her start spending more time in books and with that silly lab she's created in her room, we're only going to make the differences more pronounced_ ," he grumbled.

" _Let's take that chance and see how it goes_ ," his wife insisted, ready to be done with the topic so they could move on to something decidedly more fun.

* * *

" _Whatcha doing_?" Drel'ak asked as Jokusho stared intently at the mixture she was stirring.

" _Watch_ ," she said with a devilish smile as she took the mixture and poured it into another container that already held a colored liquid within it.

The two children waited, watching the new mixture as it began to change texture, rise, and foam out over the top of the container.

" _Wow_ ," Drel'ak whispered. " _It's kinda gross looking_."

" _I know_!" Jokusho replied gleefully. " _Remember when Gradogh told me the jat'yln were going to come steal me from my bed at night? And how the only thing that would remain was the green slime left by their spirits_?  _I'm gonna smear this all over Gradogh's room and see how he feels about the jat'yln now_."

" _Lemme help_!"

They ran down the hall with the container, delighted to smear the substance around Gradogh's room. That night, both were sent to their rooms without dinner but it had been worth it to hear their older brother howl in fear and disgust when he'd come home to find his bedroom glowing an eerie green color.

* * *

" _Your sister's weird_."

" _So what_?" Astori looked over her shoulder at Jokusho, walking towards the school while the rest of the kids left for the day. She knew her sister would be there another couple of hours, playing around in the labs to the delight of the science teachers.

" _You don't think it's creepy how into school she is_?"

Astori shot her friend a look.

" _What else is she gonna do_?" she asked practically. " _It's not like she can come hang out with us and fit in_."

She was two and a half years older than Jokusho and those years made a difference to the fourteen year old. Astori had always been popular and she liked that Jokusho didn't have any interest in trying to tag along with her. She liked that Jokusho seemed to understand they could be friends at home but at school, they were strangers.

" _Can you imagine her coming with us to watch Wol and Amak spar_?" Her friend gave Astori a look.

" _Ew, no_ ," Astori replied. " _She'd be hopeless_."

" _Why'd your dad bring her here anyway_?"

" _I don't know. He felt sorry for her. She was like a stray, you know_?"

" _So why not kill her_?"

Astori shrugged. " _Maybe he realized she'd end up being a genius_ …"

" _Who cares_?  _She's a human. Better to kill them when you can_."

" _Yeah, but why not use her_?  _The Federation is always using humans and Vulcans to come up with crazy shit – why not get in on that ourselves_?"

Astori's friend shook her head. " _Not worth it to me. I don't know how you sleep at a night with a human in your house_."

Astori said nothing in return, opting instead to change the subject. It bothered her sometimes, how mean some of the other kids were about Jokusho. Her sister was harmless. Weird, yeah. But not so different from the rest of them. And she hated it when everyone started piling on about how ugly Jokusho was. It wasn't Jokusho's fault she didn't have a ridged forehead, or that she was so small. And Astori thought she was kinda cute anyway. Like a street cat. But she didn't go to great lengths to defend her sister either. As long as everyone still liked her, she didn't worry too much about Jokusho. Her sister was scrappy and she'd get along just fine on her own.

* * *

Eighteen years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

" _Look who got boobs overnight_!"

Ovic elbowed Gradogh as Jokusho walked by in the school hallway. It was noisy enough that she didn't hear him but he wouldn't have cared if she had.

" _Gross, that's my sister, asshole_."

" _Wonder if hers feel the same way a Klingon's would_?"

" _Seriously, stop. I just ate and I don't feel like vomiting it all up_."

" _Whatever_ ," Ovic replied.

Jokusho felt his eyes on her more and more when he came over to hang out with Gradogh. She didn't like it and took comfort in the fact that both Gradogh and Ovic would be gone the next year. Their educations would be complete and they'd be sent to whatever skirmish was active to do their time as soldiers. Because Gradogh was from the highest House on Boreth, he would be an officer. Ovic would likely be infantry though his house had been gaining in stature for the past few years. None of that mattered to Jokusho – she just wanted him gone. It was hard enough watching her body change and betray her without him there to leer at her. She never understood why Gradogh put up with Ovic. It was so obvious to her that Ovic only wanted to be friends with Gradogh because of Gradogh's position as oldest son of the Head House. She wondered why Gradogh, who could have chosen anyone to be his sidekick, decided to settle on someone as foul and spooky as Ovic.

One night, Ovic stayed over and Jokusho made the mistake of getting up in the night to grab a PADD from the library. On her way back to her room, a hand reached out from the shadows of the hallway and grabbed her, pulling her into the darkness. He covered her mouth before she could scream but Jokusho recognized his smell – sour and sickeningly sweet at the same time. Ovic didn't say anything to her, didn't make any other move. Just held her close to him, staring at her with those eyes she'd grown to revile. Finally, he released her, pushing her down so hard she fell while he walked back to Gradogh's room. After that, Jokusho kept her door locked at night.

" _I don't like Ovic_ ," she told her mom a few weeks later as they were preparing dinner.

" _He is a bit of a bore_ ," Katbujo replied, not looking up from the meat she was seasoning.

" _The way he looks at me – I hate it_ ," Jokusho said with more vehemence than she'd intended.

Her mother gave her a knowing look. " _Well, dear, you are starting to change_  –"

" _Mom_ ," Jokusho replied with rolled eyes. " _Please don't start this talk again. I already know about all that stuff_."

The last thing she wanted was another conversation with her mom about her changing body and sex. One time had been enough to make her wish the floor would open up and swallow her down to the depths of Gre'thor. There was no need for an encore.

" _Well, boys start looking at girls around your age_."

" _I know_ ," Jokusho said impatiently. " _But it's different with Ovic. It's weird. Bad weird_."

" _He's just a boy, honey. Don't let it bother you_."

Later, Katbujo would think about that conversation. Jokusho had sensed it even then – the disease in Ovic – the predator lurking just below the surface. And she had brushed it off, just as she continued to until the day her daughter ran home with her legs covered in blood. Katbujo had stopped her husband from starting a civil war in their community but not a night went by after in which she didn't wish for Ovic's death. He'd stolen something from her youngest that Jokusho would never fully regain.


	13. Chapter 13

McCoy awoke to the sound of soft singing and before he opened his eyes, he wondered if maybe the poison had killed him. Was this the afterlife? There was an afterlife? The longer he listened, the more he recognized the voice. It was Jokusho, quiet but absolutely lovely. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around to get his bearings. There was still a faint pain in his chest but the compress and dermal regenerator had done wonders. Jokusho sat across from him and when he moved, she stopped singing, while still focusing intently on sharpening the wooden spears she would use later to catch their dinner.

"Where's everyone else?" McCoy asked, still a bit groggy from his slumber.

"Scotty and Nyota went to a clearing where they are getting better communicator reception. I told them I would stay here with you."

"Awful big of you," McCoy mumbled as he sat up all the way and ran his hands through his hair. Realizing his last sentence could be interpreted as sarcastic, he looked over at the woman across from him. "Thank you for helping me. Pretty sure you saved my life."

She blushed and continued looking only at the spear in her hands.

"It was the least I could do. I'm the reason you were there anyway."

After McCoy had passed out, she'd had to explain to Uhura and Scotty just why she and McCoy had been up and so far away from the camp before dawn. While neither of them had said anything critical to her, she was well aware of the fact that she would only get so many passes from the Starfleet officers before they would be forced to start treating her as a threat again. And she didn't want that. She wanted them to accept her and offer her salvation from the lie her life had been to this point.

McCoy noticed her red eyes but said nothing to Jokusho, still unclear of how their conversations about her parents had gone. The poison had distorted his perceptions while he'd been trying to tell her the truth. He worried over what, specifically, he'd said because he couldn't quite remember.

She cleared her throat and finally looked at him.

"My parents – you know what happened to them, don't you? How they died?" Her eyes burned into him and McCoy sighed, standing and grabbing his med kit before making his way to the log she was sitting on.

"I didn't tell ya before?" he asked as he dug a scanner out of the kit. He was grateful he'd had the good sense to pass out before telling her the whole story.

She shook her head. He began scanning her head and she jerked away.

"What are you doing?" she asked warily and he gave her a look but his gaze softened as her eyes held his. Those wide eyes of hers, with their lashes – a man could get lost in those eyes. McCoy shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"I'm tryna make sure you're okay," he replied and when she appeared confused, he clarified. "I'm pretty sure the Klingons erased your memories at some point and if I'm gonna tell you what happened," she opened her mouth to protest and he held his hand up, avoiding actual contact with her lips, "which I plan to," he added and she closed her mouth, "then I need to make sure I'm not adding to whatever trauma you might undergo regaining your memories."

He looked at the results of his scan on his tricorder.

"Some spikes in your cerebral cortex – around your temporal lobe, which processes long-term memory – those are to be expected, what with you remembering your parents in your dreams." She looked at the tricorder readings over his shoulder, her hair brushing against his cheek, but she couldn't make heads to tails of the screen and he turned his head to give her a look.

"You mind lettin' me be the doctor now?" he asked her, his tone lacking any real bite. Jokusho pulled away and sat back, motioning for him to continue. McCoy wasn't sure why he felt empty once she stopped crowding him.

"Your hippocampus readings are a little high and that's to be expected as well from regaining memory. In all, you seem to be processing things normally but I'm gonna want to scan you again after we talk and probably a couple of times a day for the next few days till we can get back to the ship – I've got better equipment there to determine how much damage, if any, you might be suffering from."

"So you'll tell me?" she asked him with such raw hope that he winced.

"Yeah, I'll tell you. Before I do, can I ask about the dreams?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Are they violent? Do you remember anything about your parents dying?"

Jokusho shook her head.

"The only thing I remember so far is being with them in our house…on a red planet…the soil was red, the sky was red – everything was warm."

McCoy nodded.

"Your parents joined a settlement on Meestos, a Federation planet on the border of the Alpha and Beta quadrants. Your dad was strongly encouraged by Starfleet to join the settlement and your mom went with him because, with the popularity of holovid performances, she was able to perform pretty much anywhere in the galaxy."

"You said she was a singer?"

"Yeah – quite a good one," McCoy said softly. "My ma still listens to her holorecords all the time – never missed a holovid performance of hers if she could help it. I grew up listening to your mom and I remember the day she died. A lot of people across the galaxy were devastated by the news."

"How old were you?"

"Nine or ten, I guess," he replied, trying to remember his exact age that afternoon that he'd come home from school and found his ma quietly crying in the kitchen while watching the holo reports from Meestos. It was the first time McCoy had realized that the deaths of strangers could hurt the way a death of a friend or family member would hurt. While he was too young, and not interested enough in opera to mourn the singer's loss, he was close enough to his mother to want to do what he could to make her feel better. Incidents like Meestos were relatively rare in the Federation so when they happened, the media pounced on them. For weeks after, the opera singer's death was discussed and analyzed and all a young McCoy could think about was how much it must hurt the family of the famous woman because if his ma was crying in the kitchen, then what was it like to be someone who had actually known the famous lady? From then on, Leonard McCoy had disliked the media, something which caused no small amount of trouble now that he was CMO on Starfleet's heralded flagship. He'd been forced to attend more than one training on playing nice with the media and as far as he was concerned, they could keep sending him to the damn things but it wasn't gonna change the way he interacted with the press.

"How did it happen?" Jokusho asked, impatient to finally hear what she suspected. She'd done nothing but think about her real parents since McCoy had passed out.

"Klingons attacked the settlement," he replied heavily, somehow now reluctant to confirm her theories. It was all well and good to dislike a species who seemed intent on causing you nothing but harm but it was another thing altogether to tell someone everything they'd known was false. "Everyone was killed. Men, women, children."

"Not everyone," Jokusho corrected him as she stared at her hands in her lap.

"No, not everyone. Your body was never found but it was assumed the Klingons had taken it as some sort of a trophy," McCoy admitted, hating everything about where the discussion was heading.

She nodded her head. "That's a thing we – they – do sometimes," she confessed. "I've seen it firsthand." She shuddered slightly and he wondered if she would have had the same reaction before she'd started remembering her parents. Before he could follow that line of thought to its conclusion, she took a sharp breath and brought her hand to the bridge of her nose. McCoy got his scanner out.

"You okay?" he asked as he scanned her.

"Headache," she mumbled.

Scotty and Uhura returned at the same time, laughing and joking with one another but their conversation died down as they looked at the other two people, faces somber or pained.

Jokusho arose and began pacing.

"I need air," she gasped. "I need to take a walk."

McCoy looked down at his tricorder. The same spikes were still present but nothing that he hadn't expected. She was, for the time being, okay. He looked over at Uhura as Jokusho left the camp and gave her a nod. Silently, she began to trail Jokusho.

* * *

Nyota kept her distance behind the other woman till Jokusho finally turned around.

"If you insist on following me, you might as well just walk with me," she said impatiently.

Uhura took the invite and jogged to catch up with Jokusho.

"You wanna talk about it?" she asked.

"No, but don't let that stop you." Jokusho's voice was more weary than snappish and Uhura grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"We don't have to talk about it. We don't have to talk about anything. I'm not your enemy. None of us are."

"I know," Jokusho replied, tears filling her eyes. She gasped as another headache, and more memories, flooded her head. "I need quiet," she murmured, clutching her head.

Uhura nodded and took the other woman's hand, leading her to a cave she'd seen when she was out here exploring the area earlier with Scotty. Predictably, it was cooler inside the cave and both women sat down next to each other. They were silent for a few minutes until Jokusho finally turned to Uhura and started telling her what she'd learned about her parents and their deaths from McCoy. She cried as she spoke and when she couldn't recall a particular word she wanted in Standard, Uhura tried switching to Klingon.

"No," Jokusho uttered. "I won't speak that language again."

Uhura gave her a sympathetic look and put her arm around the other woman. "I know you're angry right now and I understand you want to distance yourself from them. But it's okay if you change your mind later and find yourself missing parts of your old life. You don't have to get rid of everything."

Jokusho didn't reply except to squeeze Nyota's hand and they stayed like that, Nyota's arm around Jokusho's shoulders, until she'd calmed down. Jokusho knew she ought to be embarrassed for the emotions she was displaying in her cries – for the fact that she made no effort to hide her tears and remain stoic. But instead, she savored how comforting it felt to have Nyota's arm around her; to hear Nyota's soft words of encouragement as she let out all her emotions. She let Nyota soothe her as she regained her breath and wiped her eyes.

"I know I can't turn my back completely on what I've done and who I thought I was," she said to Nyota as they both stood to return to the camp. "But I want to leave as much of it behind as I can."

Okay," Nyota agreed. "Whatever you need to get through this."

Jokusho looked down nervously. "Doctor McCoy told me my parents named me Shakeba…" She trailed off, unsure of how she wanted to proceed.

"Do you want us to call you Shakeba from now on?" Nyota asked gently.

"Please," Shakeba replied, looking up at the other woman timidly and smiling when she saw Uhura's kind expression.

"Thank you," she continued. "You all had no reason to show me kindness. I shot at you – probably would have happily killed any of you…"

"We all make mistakes," Uhura replied with a shrug and Shakeba laughed at the nonchalant reply, which was exactly the reaction Uhura had hoped for.

"It's gonna be alright," she assured Shakeba. "You'll get through this. Forgive yourself for the things you did and remember that you did them because you believed in something. Remember that you didn't know better and that once you had a chance to change, you made the right choice."

The two women walked back to camp and while Shakeba was hunting for food, Uhura was able to discreetly tell the men about their time in the cave. Scotty was beside himself to talk with the daughter of Omid Massoud – it took cajoling from both Uhura and McCoy to remind the engineer that Shakeba wouldn't have a lot of memories of her father's work. Nonetheless, Scotty's esteem for Shakeba's skills as an engineer grew exponentially once he realized her heritage. The Scotsman had already believed her to be an unusually clever engineer – their conversations about warp cores and technologies (like the new communicator disks which had been rendered useless since the Klingon mining had begun) had shown him she knew her stuff. But now he knew why she was so clever and he could hardly wait to find out if she was, as he suspected, even smarter than her dad. And even as she cautioned Scotty against bombarding Shakeba with questions, Uhura couldn't help but look forward to a day when she and the other woman could talk about her mother – McCoy hadn't been the only one of them to grow up listening to Nafisa Massoud's holorecords.

* * *

Uhura could tell something had changed between McCoy and Shakeba after the run-in with the swart'hal. It took Scotty some help to see the difference.

"You listen to me, ya hear? We are not takin' that path! God knows what'll happen to us if this damn planet starts quaking again," McCoy snapped at an increasingly indignant Shakeba.

"Oh? And who made you the navigator?" she snipped right back at the irate doctor.

"We should break this up before someone gets hurt," Scotty whispered to a captivated Nyota.

"We'll do no such thing," she hissed back to the engineer. "Do you know how long I've waited to see this?"

"See what? Doctor McCoy yelling at someone? Yeh doona have to wait very long for that, lass."

Uhura looked at Scotty incredulously.

"You don't see it?" she asked and Scotty gave her a very confused shake of his head while the other two continued to argue loudly with one another.

"Scotty," Uhura started patiently. "What we're witnessing is the very rare McCoy mating call. And even better? It's being answered in kind."

Scotty looked at the bickering man and woman and then back at Nyota.

"I don't see it," he admitted, almost ashamed.

"Look at Len's cheeks – see the flush? And Shakeba – she's flushed too," Uhura replied. "And look at how close they're standing to one another. Look at how he's got his arm on the tree, just above her and how they're both leaning towards one another. This is practically indecent!"

They turned their attention back to the actual argument between McCoy and Shakeba.

"If we go my way," Shakeba lectured McCoy, "then we run into a lake and you need a bath."

McCoy turned even redder and Uhura wasn't sure if it was from rage or embarrassment or a combination of both.

"Why you –"

Before he could finish whatever he was about to say, Scotty cut in.

"A lake, eh? I could use a wee bit o' a swim mehself," he said diplomatically.

"We all could," Uhura chimed in. "Let's find this lake already."

McCoy glared at both of them and when he caught sight of Shakeba's triumphant smile, he leaned in towards her. "Just so you know, you stink too."

With that final shot, he sauntered away to grab his pack. Shakeba looked after him with something akin to wounded pride and Uhura had to fight the smile that wanted to burst out on her face. There was no question in her mind – Shakeba and McCoy had a thing for one another and if she had her way, the two of them would be more than friends before this adventure was over.


	14. Chapter 14

Two years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

The smell was the first thing she noticed. No one had prepared her for how the battlefield would smell. All that blood mixed with charred flesh – it was an unmistakable scent and she wanted to gag.

After the scent, her next sense to be assaulted by the scene surrounding her was her hearing. The shrill cries of her kinsmen as they attacked the planet's inhabitants kept her frozen in place. And as she remained still, she began to process what she was seeing. The carnage was unlike anything she'd seen before. Klingon holovids were known for their focus on violence but no holovid could capture what it truly looked like to raid an unsuspecting society. Holovids couldn't capture the feel of the ground shaking around you as weapons fired and bodies were destroyed in an instant by a well-lobbed grenade. As she tasted the metal in her mouth from the blood trickling down her cheek, Jokusho wondered if this is what it had been like for Tsix. Had he been overwhelmed by the actual workings of battle, visceral as they were? Had he tasted his own blood before dying? Did he freeze in the middle of a fight, paralyzed by what he was seeing around him? Did the smell make him want to void the contents of both his stomachs?

Dimly, Jokusho realized someone was shouting her name repeatedly. More than one someone. Drel'ak reached her first, his hands on her arms, shaking her.

" _You can't just stand here_ ," he yelled, not in anger but concern. " _We have to keep moving_."

Momentarily, she snapped out of her incapacitation. " _Okay_ ," she replied, nodding.

" _Follow me_ ," her brother instructed her and she did just that, not daring to let him out of her sight. He was her lodestar – the one who would insure she made it out of this alive.

Drel'ak knew this raid had been a mistake – not the raid itself – that was fine. But he should have never let his younger sister sign up for it. He knew she did it to prove herself to everyone else, most especially to Gradogh. But Jokusho had never been a warrior and she was woefully unready for the savage reality of a fight. They could do this. If they stayed close to one another, she'd make it through and maybe she'd earn the respect she so desperately sought from their community.

She deserved so much better than what she'd experienced the last couple of years at Ovic's hands. Drel'ak was of half a mind to kill her former parmaqqay himself on the field and blame it on the chaos of battle. But he knew Ovic's House would retaliate. Better to avoid the other man no matter how much he hated him and how convenient it would be to take him out.

Drel'ak looked at the small band of raiders with him. Jokusho was shell-shocked but the rest of them were seasoned veterans of raids. One was Ovic's younger brother, Ustull. There could not be a pair of brothers more dissimilar than Ovic and Ustull. Whereas Ovic was a bully who felt entitled to everything he wanted, Ustull was a hard worker who kept his head down. He was also one of the few people Drel'ak knew who appreciated Jokusho for the smart, loyal woman she was. As Drel'ak plotted their next moves, he called Ustull to him.

" _Will you do me a favor_?"

It felt strange being in charge of someone he had grown up with – someone his same age. The only thing separating them was family name. To Ustull's great credit, he obeyed Drel'ak without hesitation and fiercely defended the younger son of the House of Morc when others in his family spoke critically of him. It was a shame there had been so much tension between their families in recent years. Drel'ak knew he could count on Ustull to look beyond the tension and as the other man nodded to his as-yet-unspoken request, Drel'ak vowed that upon their return, he would ensure Ustull received the praise he deserved from Hus.

" _Jokusho_ ," he started, nodding to his sister. " _Can you keep an eye on her as we advance_?"

" _She shouldn't be here_ ," Ustull replied, not unkindly. " _This isn't the place for her_."

Drel'ak agreed but there was nothing to be done about it now and he voiced that sentiment to his friend.

" _I'll make sure she doesn't get hurt_ ," Ustull replied and took leave to crouch next to a sitting Jokusho, who barely acknowledged his presence. She was still reeling from what she'd seen, heard, and felt on the field.

Drel'ak gave his troops as much time as he could for them to rest but he could delay no longer. They had to meet the rest of the forces in the city.

He called the group together to relay his orders for their next moves. Jokusho remained in her spot, unseeing. Ustull hovered between her and the rest of the group, listening to Drel'ak's orders.

As everyone began to move out, Ustull turned to Jokusho.

" _Come on, we have to get moving again_ ," he prompted her gently. She didn't respond. Her eyes were vacant and he wondered if she had even heard him.

Preoccupied with the others, Drel'ak didn't see Jokusho and Ustull until it was too late.

Ustull reached over and grabbed Jokusho's arm to pull her up off the ground.

" _I know you're upset but we can't stay here_ ," he said quietly as he tugged her forward.

In an instant, her eyes went from dead to focused. She didn't think, she just acted. Someone was forcing her to move and she wouldn't be taken without a fight.

Drel'ak looked over to see his sister unholster her disruptor and fire it at Ustull, screaming at the man to unhand her.

It only took seconds but the damage was permanent. Ustull fell to the ground, dead from the gaping wound in his chest made by Jokusho's weapon. Only after he'd fallen did Jokusho realize what she'd done. Only after others in the group rushed towards her, did the implications of killing her former parmaqqay's brother hit her.

Drel'ak was lucky he didn't have a mutiny on his hands. He was fortunate to be a good leader who commanded the respect of his men even in a situation as awful and bizarre as this. He was lucky Jokusho readily dropped her disruptor and sank to her knees with her hands over her head, surrendering before the others could beat sense into her. He was lucky Gradogh and Ovic weren't there to kill her on sight and lucky that his father was also her father. She'd be punished, as though what she'd gone through the last two years hadn't been punishment enough. But she'd be alive.

Right there, in the moments just after she realized her horrific, shock-induced mistake, as she knelt before her brother, all she could do was beg for him to take her life. End things here and now and let her spend eternity in Gre'thor – she did not deserve better. It broke Drel'ak's heart to hear her and even those in the group who had been ready just moments before to end her life were taken aback by her sincere plea to be allowed a dishonourable death in lieu of what lay ahead of her should she live.

Jokusho was saved from a lifetime imprisoned on Rura Penthe by the intercession of none other than Kor himself. His defense of the human woman during her trial ensured she would not face life imprisonment. Drel'ak took Kor's actions as a kind of divine intervention – surely Jokusho was meant for more than life as a prisoner. But the hostility that remained hidden away while Kor was present revealed itself quickly after he departed and both Drel'ak and Jokusho wondered if this was not another form of imprisonment. Jokusho was free in a literal sense only; subject to constant reminders of her crimes.

The house she'd shared with Tsix was looted during her trial but she didn't care that much about the thefts. As long as she could return to it, she still had something tying her to her former husband. When the verdict was announced, protestors burnt the house to the ground and that hurt – more than hurt – it was as if Tsix had died all over again. Jokusho had no choice but to return to her parents' home. Moreover, she had little left to remind her of the happiness she'd shared with Tsix.

Moving back into her childhood home may not have been so bad if Hus and Katbujo hadn't been so unable to hide their disdain for her actions during the raid. Jokusho already knew, from her break-up with Ovic, that her parents would never rush to her defense even if they believed she was in the right. But now, their disapproval lingered within the privacy of their home. Hus would hardly look at her the first few months and Katbujo poured her anger into criticizing everything Jokusho did – the way she dressed, the things she cooked, the choices she made regarding how to pass her free time – all of it was wrong in Katbujo's eyes. It was draining.

Further, it became clear, in the first months after Ustull's death, that Jokusho could not wander alone around the town she'd grown up in. There were veiled threats and when those did not stop her from leaving the house, they became less obtuse, culminating in a knife to her throat in the alley behind her favorite bar (the one she'd sat in for hours with Tsix all those years before). Had Drel'ak not found her in time, she may have met her end in that alley.

The only thing that kept Jokusho tethered to Boreth was the knowledge that if she moved elsewhere, her past would follow her and she wouldn't have Drel'ak to turn to. Through everything, he remained fiercely loyal to his younger sister and it was his love alone which kept Jokusho grounded. He'd watched her kill his best friend. And still, he forgave her and continuously reminded her she was redeemable. He knew she had value. The two had always been close but the months after her trial cemented a bond between them that no one would ever break.

Drel'ak wondered, in the dark weeks and months after that raid if he should have done as she asked and killed her on the spot. Would it have been a more humane action than making her suffer through the threats and insults tossed her way by Ovic and Gradogh? The attacks that ensured she was a prisoner in her own home? The disappointment of Hus and Katbujo? The loss of any friends who had been brave enough to weather her separation from Ovic? How much loss was one supposed to endure? Drel'ak didn't have any good answers so he gave her the only thing he could provide – a shoulder to cry on and his belief that she would overcome this just as she had overcome everything else.

Six months after that first ill-fated raid, Jokusho and Drel'ak took a trip out to the wilderness of Boreth. Drel'ak had to drag Jokusho out of the house but he promised her no one would know she was with him and no one would harm her during their camping adventure. She reluctantly agreed but once they were away from the city, alone in the forest, she knew he'd been right in persuading her to come along. For several days, she was free again. She hadn't felt this comfortable in years. They did all the things they'd done as kids when Hus had brought them into the woods to teach them about survival. They navigated the woods using the stars, hunted together, cooked the animals they'd killed over a fire, and went swimming at night in ponds and lakes near their campsites. Jokusho had always felt somewhat ambivalent about camping – she hadn't hated the trips with Hus as a child but they certainly hadn't been her favorite childhood memories. After the trip with Drel'ak, she would forever feel a fondness for camping and living off the land. Their time away was part of what motivated Jokusho to start training rigorously for another raid. Discovering that she could successfully handle several days in the wilderness gave her a boost of confidence that had been sorely lacking in her post-trial life.

During their midnight swims, the siblings swam the only way Klingons ever swam for leisure – completely naked. Jokusho much preferred it to the swimming lessons Hus had given her as a child – throwing her into bodies of water with all her armor on, telling her she needed to be able to swim even when bogged down with the weight of metal plates on every inch of her body. Leisure swimming was an entirely different, and enjoyable, pastime and the siblings felt no awkwardness in being naked together in the water – this was how it was done in Klingon culture. She'd had her share of stares lobbed her way during recreational swims with friends but that had always been more about her foreignness and not about the fact that she was undressed. Jokusho learned to take the curious, sometimes hostile, looks from others in stride. Besides, Klingons were a blunt people. They would stare at one another while undressed to compare their bodies and no one thought much of it. To show embarrassment over one's body was to show weakness.

On the last night, they got good and drunk on bloodwine that Drel'ak had brought along. Jokusho had begun, on that final day, to grow melancholic, realizing she'd be back to her home prison the next day. Drel'ak had hoped a bit of alcohol would lighten her mood but instead, they both grew morose as they stared at the campfire.

" _I don't mind that people hate me. There have always been people who hated me for no other reason than my looks. But it's the loneliness that hurts most. Having so many people hate me at one time…that's hard. And knowing what I did to Ustull…well, I can hardly blame anyone else for hating me, can I_?"

Drel'ak gave his sister a sympathetic look from across the campfire. Even as she slurred her words and worked hard to keep herself upright on her log, the pain radiated from her. She'd always been expressive, for better or worse.

" _Sometimes, I think I should have done what you begged me to do right after you shot Ustull. I should have killed you then to prevent all this pain now_."

Drel'ak would never have admitted that sober. But it haunted him – the fact he may have made things worse for Jokusho by not killing her when she asked him to.

" _Wouldn't have mattered if you'd tried_. _I'm stuck here, you see_ ," she garbled through drunken tears. " _I can't just die, even if it means I go to Gre'thor_."

" _That's nonsense_. _You're not a superhero or a god. I could kill you right now if you really wanted me to_."

For a split second, she thought about taking him up on his offer. But then Jokusho thought of Tsix. He'd be so disappointed in her if she gave up after all this. She couldn't be sure but a part of her clung to the hope that he was watching over her and doing what he could to make sure they were reunited someday. And as long as she believed that, she had to keep going, no matter how much she hated her current life.

It never occurred to her that Tsix might not be the only one watching over her.


	15. Chapter 15

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" McCoy rumbled from the water as Shakeba began to strip down at the lake's edge where McCoy's clothes lay strewn about already.

"What?" she asked in genuine confusion. "Is there something wrong with the water?" She stopped removing her clothes as she waited for his response.

"I wasn't expecting you to join me," he finally muttered and she gave him a look like he'd lost a few brain cells before resuming the removal of her clothing.

"Why should we take turns?" she asked. "There's plenty of lake for us to bathe in at the same time."

McCoy turned away to give her privacy once she began to pull her top over her head and he only turned around once he heard her splashing into the water and beckoning to him.

"You can turn around now. I had no idea humans were so prudish about nudity."

"Humans? Hate to remind you, darlin', but you're one of us."

Before Shakeba could respond, Uhura and Scotty appeared at the lake's edge.

"Group bathing, eh?" Scotty asked approvingly. "Haven't skinny-dipped since my days in uni." He shucked his shirt off as he talked.

Nyota shrugged good-naturedly and began to remove her boots. She gave both McCoy and Scotty pointed looks and the men turned away from her as she shed her dress. Shakeba swam over to McCoy and raised her eyebrows, whispering, "See? Prudes, the lot of you."

"Didn't realize Klingons were so into public nudity," McCoy commented wryly while the other two crew members splashed around in the water, too distracted by the novelty of a group swim to pay attention to what McCoy and Shakeba were discussing.

"There appears to be a lot you don't know about Klingons," she retorted but their conversation was cut short when Scotty lobbed a splash of water at McCoy. The foursome bantered and splashed one another and soon, McCoy forgot to be uptight about the whole thing because it wasn't so much titillating as it was a call-back to youthful romps on the farm with friends.

At one point, McCoy was playing around – cupping water in his hands and squeezing them shut in just the right way to send an arc of water soaring up over his head and back into the lake. It was a trick his father had taught him over the course of several visits to the family pond as a kid. Shakeba was fascinated.

"How do you do that?" Her tone was almost reverent.

"Just cup your hands," he explained and she drew closer to him to watch how he held his hands so she could imitate.

"No, more like this," he said patiently, coming around behind her and engulfing her arms in his own so that he could shape her hands and fingers into the right positions. His own father had done similar with him but as she pressed against him, he realized this was no parent/child teaching experience. Their feet were on the lake bed and the water came up to Shakeba's collarbone and midway up McCoy's upper chest. They were covered but McCoy was hyper-aware of the feel of her naked body against his own. If Shakeba noticed the contact they were making, or felt any awkwardness over their close proximity to one another, she didn't show it, so focused was she on learning how to make the water arcs McCoy had been making.

She was so wrapped up in their efforts, laughing at her failures, and then laughing once she mastered the trick and hit McCoy square in the face with a stream of water, that she didn't notice Nyota giving Scotty a knowing look.

"Come on," Uhura said to the engineer. "Let's give them some space."

Scotty was disappointed to end the fun of a group swim but even he could see the chemistry radiating from the part of the lake where McCoy was currently dunking Shakeba under the water for continuing to pelt him with water arcs.

The two continued to play as Scotty and Uhura got out and it wasn't till the two Starfleet officers were drying off that Shakeba grew still, seemingly mesmerized by watching them. McCoy wondered if either felt her gaze.

To distract her from gawking, he splashed water in her face and once more, the two began to goof around.

"Ever play Marco Polo?" McCoy asked her as Shakeba surfaced after another dunking.

"Marco What-o?"

"It's a game people play in lakes and pools. One person is it. They keep their eyes closed and call out Marco. Everyone else calls out Polo from wherever they're hidin' and the person who's it tries to catch them based on the sounds of their voices. Every time the person who's it calls out Marco, everyone has to respond with Polo."

"There's only two of us…"

"Well, then, I guess it'll be a quick game."

Shakeba tentatively agreed and McCoy counted to ten underwater, giving her time to hide.

He called out, "Marco," several times, swimming towards where he thought her voice was originating. The third time he called out, she whispered, "Polo," so close to his ear, he could feel her breath blow against it. Spinning around, he reached out to grab her but his arms filled with nothing but air. A giggle escaped, no more than centimeters away and he lunged forward, certain he would catch her. But Shakeba was too quick for him and he spent a maddening few minutes, spinning in circles as she taunted him from less than a meter away. Finally, he caught her, pulling her close as she dissolved into laughter.

They played for a bit, each finding the other for several rounds. And if McCoy used keeping his eyes closed as an excuse to brush against Shakeba, and hold her tight when he caught her, he could hardly be blamed. After all, she was doing the same thing during her turns. After she threw her arms around his neck the third time she was it, the two stared at one another just a beat too long, flirtation moving into awkwardness. McCoy untangled himself from her embrace and she treaded water, moving away from him.

"Human men are not so endowed as Klingons," she finally said, breaking the silence that had persisted since they separated. It was an unexpected non-sequitur and McCoy was lucky he didn't swallow a mouthful of water sputtering.

"I'm not sure how to take that, sweetheart," McCoy replied. "Are you merely pointing out we don't have two penises or are you commenting on our size?"

"Both," she said honestly and he noted that she didn't seem at all upset or embarrassed by the conversation which was more than he could say for himself.

"You know, it varies from man to man," McCoy began. "And being in water doesn't help things."

"Yes, I know. Klingons undergo the same kind of shrinkage from water," she informed him. Seeing his face, she softened her stance a bit. "You think I am insulting humans. On the contrary, I find the smaller size a relief."

Now he found himself studying her anew and, for not the first time, McCoy wondered what it had been like for her, living among Klingons.

Shakeba dipped her head underwater for a moment then came back to the surface, doggy-paddling to keep herself in one spot. McCoy did his damnedest to not notice her breasts just under the surface of the water.

"Would you say you're a good example of human males?" she asked him with that same frank tone and he realized she'd been peeking at him under the water. His face grew red but he was determined to hold the conversation without getting "prudish" on her.

"I suppose so," he answered with a grimace.

"You appear bigger than Mister Scott," she countered.

"Definitely do not have this conversation with him," McCoy admonished her, wishing she wouldn't have the conversation with him either.

"Of course not. I'm not stupid," she replied.

"Then why are you talking to me about all this?" McCoy muttered, irritated by the whole thing.

"Because you're a doctor," she explained patiently. "Of everyone here, you would know what human standards are. And because…you're my friend, I think."

"A week ago, you were ready to kill me and now we're friends?" McCoy asked with the barest hint of a smirk.

"Would you rather not be friends?" she asked gravely, missing the humor in his comment.

"I'd rather be your friend than on the receiving end of your disruptor, that's for damn sure," he grumbled and they both looked over at his arm where a faint red scar could still be seen.

"I'm sorry about that," she murmured, swimming closer to him.

"Don't worry about it," he scoffed, backing away from her in the water. "I'm fine. When we get back to the ship, I'll be able to finish working on it and there won't be so much as a trace of it."

"Doctor, am I representative of the average human female?" Shakeba asked him with such seriousness, McCoy had to fight from either rolling his eyes or laughing.

"Back to this, are we?"

"Nyota is taller…and less…," Shakeba couldn't find the word she wanted but McCoy knew what she was trying to say.

Uhura lacked the definition that Shakeba had from her rigorous training. McCoy imagined that even if Shakeba didn't maintain her physical condition as meticulously, she would still never have the same willowy grace that Nyota possessed. Not that Shakeba needed it. Her body was all curves and power. He remained silent though, allowing her to figure out what she wanted to communicate even while he grew more and more ill at ease with the conversation.

"Her body does not look like mine. I'm not…that is…am I pleasing to human males, do you think?"

McCoy wiped his face with his hand, his fingers lingering for a moment in the coarse hairs that had grown out on his face over the time they'd been stranded on Celes-D42. Good God, what was he supposed to say to that?

"Stop worrying about whether you're normal or pleasing. Humans come in about as many configurations as Klingons and most of us manage to find at least one other person who likes what they see," he finally grumbled, turning away from her to swim back to the shore.

"My questions upset you," she observed.

"I can't answer your questions because I'm just one man. I don't know if you're attractive to most men or not."

"Do you like what you see when you look at me?"

He hung his head as he climbed out of the water, not even worried that her eyes were likely on his body, taking in every detail and flaw.

"Shakeba, you're fine. Stop worrying."

"I would prefer to be more than fine." Her voice was closer behind him than he'd anticipated. She came up in front of him, dripping wet, and as naked as the day she was born. "I would like you to enjoy what you see when you look at me."

"Look, we got a lot to worry about in terms of getting off this planet safely," McCoy replied, turning away from her as he wrapped a towel around his waist, holding another in his hand to dry his hair. "Now's not the time to fret over your looks."

Shakeba wasn't giving up that easily though and she walked around him till she was in front of him again.

"Why won't you answer my question?" she asked with wide eyes. "Is there something wrong with me?"

McCoy didn't know how he was supposed to put up with a beautiful, naked woman asking him to tell her she was attractive without losing his cool. So he advanced on her, feelings of anger and frustration fighting against desire and lust inside him. Instead of backing away, she stepped closer to him and her lips parted as she stared at his mouth. He knew she'd let him kiss her. For a moment, he lowered his head towards hers, so tempted to give her what she wanted. But then she blinked and it broke the spell.

"I said you were fine. Stop tryna get me to admit I want you and cover up, already," he snarled, backing away and throwing one of his towels at her.

"You want me?" she responded with something like wonderment, her cheeks turning pink.

He said nothing in return, just turning around to dress. She seemed to understand the conversation was over and remained silent as well while she dried off and dressed.


	16. Chapter 16

Seventeen years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

" _Girls, you must listen very closely to me_ ," Katbujo said sternly to her daughters. " _Kor is coming over for dinner tonight and if you so much as widen your eyes or crack a smile at his appearance, you will not be able to sit for a week after I'm done with you. Do I make myself clear_?"

Astori and Jokusho nodded solemnly.

" _Good. Now go get cleaned up. And Astori, you may not wear the red dress to dinner. Wear something that keeps your bosoms covered. We aren't barbarians here_."

" _But mom, everyone's wearing the new cut-out style! Why do I have to look like some unfashionable peasant for daddy's patron_?"

" _Not another word or I'll shred the red dress – and every cut-out top you own – into ribbons. You can wear that kind of thing for dates and school dances but when Kor is here, my children will not look like hoodlums_."

Astori rolled her eyes but when she came into Jokusho's room for help tying her dress, her younger sister saw that she'd chosen something without any cut-outs.

" _You look beautiful_ ," Jokusho whispered as Astori spun around after she'd finished with the ties. Once she'd stopped spinning, Astori continued to primp in the mirror, seeing that she'd have to help Jokusho with her own ties momentarily.

Jokusho had always envied Astori's casual beauty. Her older sister was the quintessential Klingon female and she could wear things Jokusho looked ridiculous in, like the dresses and tops with cut-outs that showed her cleavage. Astori had the broad shoulders and height to fit clothes purchased off the rack while Jokusho had to have everything hemmed and otherwise altered for her smaller frame.

Astori caught a glimpse of her sister looking wistfully at her as she played with her hair and she turned around to face Jokusho.

" _You look lovely too, you know_."

Jokusho looked down at herself. She looked like the odd one out, as always. Her frown gave her thoughts away.

" _Hey, stop pouting_ ," Astori demanded as she approached her sister. Jokusho held her arms out to the sides so Astori could lace up the ties of her dress. " _You're very pretty for a human, you know_."

Jokusho scowled. " _Everyone always makes fun of me. I'm tired of being teased for looking human_."

" _It could be worse_."

" _How_?" Jokusho asked glumly.

" _Well, what if you were pale like so many of them are? After all, you have nice, dark hair, and your skin color isn't so different from mine. Your eyes are dark too – all things considered, you could look much more human than you do_."

" _You really think so_?"

" _Truly_ ," Astori said with a smile as the two girls looked at themselves in the mirror. " _But don't let Kor hear you complain about looking human tonight_."

" _Why_? _What did mom mean when she told us not to react to how he looks tonight_?"

" _You don't know_?" Astori asked with faux incredulousness as she helped her sister finish her hair. Jokusho never knew what was going on and Astori liked it just fine that way – it meant she was always the one to fill her little sister in and Astori delighted in gossiping.

" _What_? _Tell me_! _No one ever tells me the good stuff_ ," Jokusho whined.

" _Well, I heard mom talking to T'uma a couple of days ago – apparently, Kor had surgery using human DNA or something to become stronger and smarter_."

Jokusho wrinkled her nose. " _Why would human stuff make someone smarter or stronger_?"

Astori gave her sister a look. Everyone knew Jokusho was the brainiac in the family so maybe human DNA could make a person smarter. But the stronger thing seemed weird to her too.

" _I don't know, but that's not important. The surgery didn't go as planned and now Kor looks like a human_."

Jokusho gasped and Astori basked in the power of being able to pass along such a salacious bit of information.

" _How human_?" her younger sister asked with apprehension.

" _Like he's smaller now and he has a smooth forehead_. _Can you imagine? He must be mortified_!"

When Jokusho didn't respond, Astori looked over to see the other girl biting her lip. They made eye contact and Jokusho straightened her shoulders.

" _Of course I can imagine. I've spent my life looking human_."

Jokusho didn't mean for the rebuke to come out so harsh but it hurt to hear her older sister be so flippant about something she wrestled with every day. Astori was cowed temporarily before coming over to Jokusho and giving her a brief hug.

" _Silly, it's not the same. You were born human – you've never known anything but what you look like now and as I said before – for a human, you're really very cute. But Kor – he's a respected leader among Klingons. For him, this has to be a gross indignity_."

" _I feel bad for him_ ," Jokusho told Astori softly. " _I bet people say mean things under their breath when he walks by, just like they do with me_."

" _I doubt it_ ," Astori countered. " _He'd have anyone who spoke unkindly within his earshot killed_."

" _Still_ …"

Astori met Jokusho's eyes in the mirror.

" _I know. It must be awful_."

Before the girls could continue their conversation, the bell rang.

" _He's here_ ," Astori said excitedly. She walked to the door before turning back to Jokusho.

" _Remember - whatever you do, don't make any faces in front of Kor_."

" _I know, I know_!" Jokusho was indignant as she followed Astori out the door and down the stairs to the main hall.

* * *

Dinner with Kor was always a treat. The kitchen staff prepared elaborate meals the family would otherwise not eat and Kor himself was a wonderful guest, regaling the table with tales of intrigue and adventure. Astori, Drel'ak, and Jokusho had been warned by their parents to make no reaction to Kor's new appearance and the children had done admirably.

" _Gradogh sends his greetings_ ," Kor announced. Jokusho did her best to keep a scowl off her face. She didn't miss her oldest brother. The house had been so much happier without him.

" _How is he adjusting to life on the front_?" Hus asked between bites of Bregit lung with grapok sauce.

" _Does he still have a nasty case of gorch_?" Drel'ak asked with a smirk.

Katbujo gave her son a look and the grin disappeared from his face. He looked down, knowing if he looked at Jokusho, they'd both get in trouble for laughing.

Kor gave the boy an amused look. " _Your brother is maturing into a fine warrior. If that includes some slight inflammations on his face, he can hardly be faulted, can he_?"

The teenagers kept their own council, each taking a deep interest in their food. Kor looked at Hus.

" _He's doing…well. I believe you were correct in keeping him back till now_."

Jokusho bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from gloating. Gradogh had been so angry when Hus had made him stay on Boreth for his last two years of schooling, like someone from the lower castes – someone like Ovic. Oldest boys from the highest Houses were supposed to begin their military service at 15. Gradogh would be 18 in a few short weeks.

Hus looked at his patron with concern. " _He is performing to expectations, I hope_?"

" _Of course_ ," Kor replied mildly. " _We can discuss specifics later, after dinner. No need to bore the entire family with details_."

Jokusho no longer needed to worry about smiling or snickering inappropriately. Instead, she poked at her dinner, worry lines wrinkling her forehead. As much as Gradogh annoyed her, and had horrible taste in friends, she still didn't want her older brother to struggle in his military activities. She looked over to Drel'ak, who was similarly troubled. He met her eyes with his own and gave a shrug of his shoulders. They'd talk later.

Kor missed nothing and he spoke quickly to put the table at ease.

" _Gradogh has conducted himself like a perfect soldier. My concerns have nothing to do with his ability to fight and lead others in combat. I assure you, he brings honour to the House of Morc_."

The mood at the table lightened at his words and even while Hus continued to fret internally, he said nothing, allowing the conversation to progress. He'd find out later what Kor's issues with Gradogh might be.

" _And you, my boy_ ," Kor said, his eyes on Drel'ak. " _I believe you will be joining the campaign at the end of this school term, correct_?"

Drel'ak grinned and nodded enthusiastically. Jokusho stabbed at her Bregit lung with perhaps more force than she intended. While Gradogh's departure had been a blessing, she felt no relish at the prospect of a house without Drel'ak.

" _Yes sir_!" Drel'ak replied. " _I look forward to joining the front_."

" _Excellent_ ," Kor replied with a tip of his head to the young man. Unlike his brother, Drel'ak had been a model Klingon. He would leave school early, serve his time at the front, and then return to Boreth to watch his brother train with Hus. Drel'ak wasn't the oldest son – he had no claim to take over the House, even if he was the more competent of the two boys. Drel'ak didn't care. He was perfectly happy to live his life as the younger son. He would be allowed to pursue his own interests so long as they were useful to the House. He was still a member of the upper caste – he would be expected to do whatever it took to promote and protect the House's stakes.

* * *

" _Come in, child_ ," Kor said gently.

Jokusho bit her lip and straightened her posture as she gripped the tray, with its glasses, decanter, and accoutrements tightly in her hands. She had never been the one to deliver the post-prandial drinks to her father's study but Katbujo had told her she'd been requested specifically by Kor. And if she messed up, her mother would have her hide. She moved into the study and found that she was alone with Kor.

" _Where's my father_?" she asked as she set the tray down on the coffee table.

" _Attending to some business_ ," Kor replied, his tone relaxed as he took a seat across from the tray and helped himself to a glass before unstopping the decanter.

Previous to now, she'd never feared Kor. Everyone knew he was ruthless – you didn't come from a House as prestigious as his without being willing to take out those who might oppose you. But he'd always been an amusing guest. Alone in a room with him, Jokusho suddenly worried she would say or do something wrong. She felt more alien there in that room than she did on the streets, listening to the snide comments of Klingons below her social caste.

" _Sit_ ," he ordered Jokusho, nodding to the chair behind her. She did as he commanded, despite the discomfort in her stomach. Would her parents yell at her if they found her here alone with their patron? Why did he want her around anyway?

" _Would you like a taste_?" he asked after he had prepared his drink, holding the glass out to her.

She shook her head emphatically, then remembered her manners. " _No thank you, sir_."

He gave her an approving smirk and took a sip of the drink.

" _Jokusho, is it_?" he asked her and she nodded. " _Tell me, Jokusho – what do you think of my new appearance_?"

He watched as the young girl's wide eyes grew wider. " _Don't be scared. It's just the two of us right now_."

" _It's…not so bad, sir_ ," she replied hesitantly.

Kor set down his drink and leaned forward, facing the girl.

" _What have your parents taught you about lying, young lady_?"

She looked down in shame.

" _Sorry, sir. It's just…does it hurt at all_?"

" _No_ ," he replied, leaning back with a lazy grin on his human-like face. " _Not physically, at least_."

" _Do…do you hear the things people say when they think you're out of earshot_?"

Kor reached out and touched her cheek.

" _No, I don't. What do they say_?" His hand moved down so he was holding her chin, forcing her to retain eye contact with him.

" _All sorts of things_ ," she whispered. " _None of them are the kind of words I should say in front of you, sir_."

" _Does it bother you_?" he asked the fourteen-year-old as he withdrew his hand from her face.

She shrugged. " _At first. But I got used to it_."

" _What if I told you I could ensure you'd never hear another cruel word about your appearance_?"

Jokusho gave him another wide-eyed look. " _How_?"

" _Dr. Korgihl could alter your looks – make you look more Klingon_." Kor sat back while the adolescent considered his offer.

" _If Dr. Korgihl can change my appearance_ …," she began carefully and Kor nodded at her to continue. " _Why haven't you had him do the same to you_?"

Kor barked out a mirthless laugh. " _You don't miss much, do you_?" he asked Jokusho and she remained still, worried she had done irreparable damage to her father's relationship with his patron. Surely, he'd expel her from the House if she angered Kor.

Seeing the fear in her eyes, Kor placed his hand on her knee. Jokusho looked down in terror. She'd never been alone in a room with Kor, talking about her biggest insecurities, being commanded to tell him honestly what she thought about his disastrous, unintended new look.

Kor understood the young girl was terrified. Normally, he might enjoy such a display as one more sign of how powerful he was. Certainly, he'd relish watching her oldest brother squirm. But right now, the last thing he wanted was for this peculiar little wisp of a thing to fear him.

" _I can't have any further procedures_ ," he said calmly, keeping his touch on the child light. " _If Korgihl tried to fix my appearance, he would be risking my life. Do you understand_?"

Jokusho nodded, still scared.

" _But he could modify your appearance with little risk_ ," he added gently. " _Would you want that_?"

Jokusho considered his words, wondering what the right answer was. She glanced up and saw her father's patron's eyes on her. For reasons she couldn't identify, she decided to tell the truth.

" _No sir_ ," she said softly. " _I don't want to look like a Klingon. I mean, I do, but not enough to change my appearance_."

" _Why not_?" Kor asked, removing his hand from her knee. Once again, she felt a surge of panic. Had she been wrong to be so honest? Now she had no choice but to continue.

" _This is who I am_ ," she said quietly, looking down at her hands. " _I am human. If I changed my looks, everyone would know I did so out of shame or embarrassment. I cannot show that kind of weakness. Does that make sense_?" She finally looked up at him, her eyes full of anticipation.

He was silent for a beat and Joksuho's eyes filled with apprehension. She'd been wrong to be so forthcoming. Her father would slap her for her lack of discretion.

" _You honour your family with your words, little one_ ," he finally replied and Jokusho didn't even flinch when he called her little. " _Perhaps we would be a better species if we all remembered our Klingon duties as well as you_."

Jokusho's cheeks pinkened but she held his gaze. " _Do you find me ugly, child_?" he asked her.

" _No sir_ ," she replied. " _I liked you better before but you are still my father's patron and I think you are still a strong champion. And you are not so unattractive as a human_." She gave him the smallest of smiles.

He stared hard at her before placing his hand on her knee once more and giving it a quick pat. " _Go on now_ ," he urged her. " _Your mother will worry about you if you stay any longer_."

" _Yes sir_ ," she agreed, standing quickly. As she moved to leave, Kor grabbed her arm to stop her. She looked at him inquisitively.

" _Never let anyone tell you you're lesser than them_ ," he told her, his eyes serious. " _You are every bit as Klingon as anyone else, forehead ridges be damned_."

She nodded at him, not fully able to comprehend what had transpired between them but aware that she had passed some sort of test.

" _Thank you, sir_ ," she said in a rush.

" _No, thank you_ ," he replied before finally releasing her.

Years later, as she stood before the judge, facing a lifetime on Rura Penthe, Jokusho would discover just how deeply Kor had been affected by their conversation that night. He would come to her defense, saving her from a life of imprisonment. Her honesty in spite of fear had stayed with him all those years. He knew she was the reason Hus did not treat him differently after his botched surgery. Every other beneficiary had given some indication of discomfort with his new look. But Hus? The man lived with a human in his house. He thought nothing of his patron's new, smooth forehead and tinier form. And he had this young girl to thank for that. Kor never forgot his favorite beneficiary and the family that had helped shape Hus.


	17. Chapter 17

Nyota was beginning to wonder if she had misread the attraction between McCoy and Shakeba but Scotty assured her this was just another stage in the blossoming relationship.

"Aye, don't you see? They both know they like each other and now it's a wee bit awkward because neither wants to make the first move. Give it time," he whispered to her as they watched the other two avoid one another after dinner – a hard feat to manage when there were only four people.

"I don't know, Scotty," Uhura whispered before getting up to start the evening routine of dampening the campfire and collecting utensils.

"Don't get down, lass," came the reply and she smiled in spite of herself.

A lot had happened in the days since they'd told Jim about the Klingons' real plans to harvest obslivium from Celos-D42. The Enterprise, on Jim's orders, had pulled out of orbit from the planet. That meant they were on their own, unable to comm one another for help unless those already in the capital city could get the Celosian communications systems working again. Scotty had some ideas about that but the foursome was still at least 3 days away from the capital.

A third of the crew was still down on Celos, most in the capital city but some, like the foursome, were trying to make their way back through a drastically altered terrain that continued to morph each day. Before leaving orbit, the Enterprise had sent the latest maps they'd taken from above to aid everyone in their return trips but now that she was out of range, the Enterprise would not be able to monitor forthcoming changes. And that wasn't the half of it.

Klingon ships had been waiting for the Enterprise once she pulled out of the planet's orbit and Jim would be beside himself when he heard that the new ship had fought off Birds of Prey without him at the helm. The ship had fared quite well for itself without his guidance, but there were damages inflicted and who knew when the Klingons would return to create more casualties? Further, Sulu and Chekov, as the senior officers on board, weren't sure if they should risk returning to orbit Celos-D42 so they could fill Jim in on what had happened with the ship's attack or if they should put some space between the Enterprise and Celos-D42, with the hope that the Klingons would remain close to the planet. There were no easy answers.

* * *

"Ql'yaH!"

Shakeba looked up from her PADD and cursed, choosing the strongest expression she knew in Klingon because as much as she wanted to separate herself from her past, there were some things that could only be expressed in the language she had spoken for most of her life.

The moment she had looked up from her PADD, McCoy had looked away, hoping she hadn't noticed his gaze. The curse she let go did nothing to reassure him one way or the other. And even though he didn't understand it, he'd known it was a curse. He knew because the tone she used was the same one he'd been using in his head every time he caught himself looking at her since the swimming incident. They weren't speaking but somehow, things were even more precarious now than they'd been before. McCoy felt like he had to be constantly vigilant with himself or he'd slip up and confess to Shakeba just how much he wanted her. And he couldn't do that. It was exhausting policing himself like this and his already dour temperament had suffered over the past few days.

"What? What's wrong?" Uhura asked Shakeba.

"They're over-mining the obslivium," Shakeba muttered, holding her PADD out to the others. Only Scotty could begin to comprehend what was being shown and even he needed help with the Klingon. Shakeba tried to remain patient as she explained to the other three why she was so upset.

"When we decided to come here and take the obslivium, there was a dispute between Gradogh and Hus as to how much obslivium should be mined. Gradogh argued that we should take as much of it as we could. Hus, on the advice given to him by myself and the other scientists involved with the mining project, disagreed. He decided we would only take enough for one year's worth of production."

"Just what kind of advice did you give?" McCoy asked, skeptical as ever.

"We gave him the facts. If we took too much obslivium, it would upset the planet's core and perhaps trigger a series of quakes that would decimate the planet. We told him the choice was his but that if we destroyed the planet this time, we wouldn't be able to return later to harvest any further obslivium."

Shakeba found it increasingly difficult to understand how she could have been so cavalier about the well-being of an entire planet but there were a lot of things she was having a hard time dealing with regarding her past decisions these days. But of course, McCoy was there to pick at her most sensitive wounds.

"So you didn't care about ruining the lives of the Celosians – just wanted to make sure you could get as much of your precious crystals as possible," he pointed out.

"Knock it off, Len," Uhura replied sharply seeing the pain in Shakeba's eyes.

"So now that yer brother's in charge, he's decided to mine as much as he can," Scotty observed, getting back to the problem at hand.

"Yes," Shakeba replied, her anguish plain for all three to see. "So in addition to getting back to the ship, we need to find a way to get as many Celosians off the planet as we can."

"And if we don't?" McCoy asked warily.

"They die. We die. This planet is going to fold in on itself," Shakeba said, visibly shaking.

"How much time do we have?" Uhura asked.

"I don't know," Shakeba replied. "Could be as little as a month or as long as a year. A lot depends on the planet's quakes."

"Been pretty stable the past week or so," McCoy observed.

"But we can hardly go by that as a prediction of what might happen," Shakeba countered.

"Which means we need a plan," Uhura interjected. "A new plan – one that addresses stopping the mine as well as getting to the city and getting communications back online. If we get the com links up now, we can call for assistance in evacuations."

It was a good thing they had stopped early – Scotty and McCoy were both still moving slowly, with the injuries they had suffered since heading into the woods. Uhura looked up, trying to gauge how much light they had left before the Celosian suns set.

"We need to split up," Uhura said firmly to the other three people. "It's the only way we're gonna have a chance to make any of this work."

"Now wait just a damn second," McCoy snapped back. "Exactly how are we supposed to pair off? It's not like we can just let her go off on her own." He nodded to Shakeba and she glared at him in reply.

Uhura wasn't advocating for splitting into pairs because she wanted to speed along the matchmaking process; she was more invested in getting back to the Enterprise and saving the Celosians. She sincerely believed they would have the best chance at success if they allowed Shakeba and McCoy to infiltrate the Klingon mining site. With that in mind, she straightened her back, standing tall.

"Obviously, we won't make you do everything by yourself," she said to Shakeba. "One of us will go with you."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Shakeba replied. "It can't be Scotty and it probably wouldn't make much sense for you to come with me so that leaves him." She jerked her shoulder in McCoy's direction.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not excited about it either," McCoy grumbled leaving both Uhura and Shakeba to marvel at how he could make a word like sweetheart sound so insulting.

Uhura was right – the sensible thing to do would be to split up, with two people heading to the Klingon mines (one of which had to be Shakeba) and two people heading to the capital city (one of which needed to be Scotty). But just because she was right, didn't mean McCoy had to be happy about it. He was smart enough to realize that if they split, he'd most likely be paired with Shakeba – it would be foolish to let both Klingon speakers be paired together and Uhura would be more help to Scotty with the com links anyway. McCoy understood all this but it didn't make him any happier about being stuck with Shakeba for at least a week… a week alone, just the two of them. God help him, they were going to end up killing each other.

For her part, Shakeba looked as perturbed as McCoy felt. While she had grown closer to Scotty and Uhura, her relationship with McCoy had been strained since their conversation at the lake. They weren't even bickering at this point, more content to avoid one another than to pick fights. Shakeba didn't like how McCoy was always watching her. It wasn't just that he was keeping an eye on her. It was more that she suspected he could see the parts of her she worked hard to keep hidden. She'd understood immediately that Uhura was sizing her up when they'd met and she'd appreciated the other woman's forthright nature. It had been easy to show Nyota what she wanted the communications officer to see. Same went for Scotty. But Doctor McCoy. He was a harder nut to crack. She had the strangest feeling when he was staring at her all those times he thought she wasn't looking that he could see straight into her and it filled her with an uneasiness she couldn't shake. Shakeba wasn't sure she was ready for a week alone with a man who made her stomach feel simultaneously like it was full of cement yet not bound by any laws of gravity.

"I wouldn't mind just going it alone," Shakeba offered and she meant it. She'd rather take on the Klingons alone than have to deal with Doctor McCoy for who-knew-how-long.

"See?" McCoy said to the other two. "We let her go alone and she runs back to the Klingons to tell them how many of us are still here and how to defeat us."

Before Scotty or Uhura could protest, a rock flew directly at McCoy and hit his back.

"Ow!" he cried indignantly as he turned to the direction the rock had come from. Shakeba had one hand on her hip and held a larger rock in her free hand.

"That was a warning," she said in a low voice, her eyes blazing. "You accuse me of being loyal to the Klingons one more time and I'll knock you out."

McCoy turned to his friends. "You want me to go out into the wilderness with her?" he sputtered.

"I would have knocked you out with the first rock," Uhura sniffed in reply.

"Looks like yer both gonna have to learn a thing or two about getting along," Scotty piped up, giving McCoy and Shakeba an impish grin. "At least don't kill each other till after you've disarmed the mining drill, right?"

"He's going to slow me down," Shakeba mumbled, realizing she couldn't get around having the grumpy doctor accompany her to the Klingon camp.

"Keep a few rocks on you," Uhura advised her.

"Very funny," McCoy shot back. "No rocks," he said to Shakeba.

"As though I couldn't knock you out in some other manner," she said before turning on her heel to grab all her things and pack them in her bag. McCoy had no illusions about how much damage the damn woman could do to him if she wanted. She was dangerous in more ways than he cared to acknowledge.

Uhura came over to Shakeba and handed her the disruptor and knife they had taken from her before fleeing into the woods.

"You'll need these."

"Wait, you're giving her weapons?" McCoy complained.

"How else are you two going to survive infiltrating the Klingon camp?" Uhura asked him in annoyance. "Besides, you have a phaser. It's not like you're helpless."

He grumbled something under his breath but said nothing further. Instead, he took his phaser from his bag and clipped it to his pants. Shakeba watched him and shook her head. She sheathed her d'k'tagh before strapping it to a thigh holster and then putting the disruptor in her knapsack. She wanted it clear that she had no intention of using either weapon on her traveling companion, no matter how annoying he might be.

The foursome packed up quickly before parting ways. They still had a couple of hours of light by which to travel and the sooner they got moving, the sooner this would all be over. Shakeba said a mournful goodbye to Scotty and Uhura while McCoy just glared at everyone and then, it was just the two of them.

* * *

Shakeba looked up from the PADD she was holding.

"This must be what's left of the city of Malacore," she said softly to McCoy.

They stared at the few standing homes before them and looked beyond to the devastation that marked where the city had once stood. A few walls still remained but the city had been leveled and a new river ran through what would have been the city center. A lone steeple peeked out from the river's depths. It was eerily quiet and dusk was rapidly turning to night. Shakeba gave McCoy an uneasy look.

"Do you think the people had a chance to escape?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I can't tell you when most of this damage occurred – in the first round of quakes or the second. Hopefully most of them evacuated to the capital after the first set and this damage happened during the second, when the town was empty."

He walked towards one of the houses.

"What are you doing?" Shakeba asked him reaching out to stop him. He turned to look at her, shaking her hand off his arm at the same time.

"I'm findin' us a place to stay for the night," he growled.

"What if there are bodies?" she asked, her eyes wide with fear and apprehension.

"Then we leave them alone and try another house," McCoy grumbled, acting calm but secretly dreading the idea of finding dead Celosians in the houses. "I thought death didn't bother Klingons," he taunted her as he scrubbed the scruff on his face with his hand. So much time in the wild had left him with a beard.

She narrowed her eyes at him and followed after him. "I have never enjoyed death."

"Probably shoulda been a sign to you that you weren't meant to be Klingon," he muttered and she glared at him, still following until he reached the front door of the first house.

"Wait! We can't just walk into someone else's house," she protested as he reached for the doorknob.

He snorted as he moved back to her. "That's rich coming from someone who came down to raid this planet and steal its resources from the inhabitants."

She took a moment to comprehend what he was saying and scowled when she figured it out. "I thought Starfleet was above such actions," she finally muttered, following him as he opened the door.

"We're not gonna destroy the place," McCoy replied testily. "We're gonna sleep here and leave in the morning. We can make the beds and leave the place better than we found it. Will that satisfy your new-found moral code?"

"Asshole," she whispered under her breath in response. One good thing about hanging around the cranky man she'd had the misfortune of being paired with was that she was learning more curses in Standard.

They separated and looked around the empty home. While the place was a wreck, nothing was so damaged they couldn't figure out something for sleeping arrangements. And Shakeba had to admit an actual bed – or even a couch – would beat sleeping on the ground with nothing but a thin pad separating her from the earth. McCoy moved through the house and called out to her.

"There's one intact bed back here. You can have it."

She bit her tongue to keep from asking him what was so wrong with it that he'd be willing to give it to her instead of taking it for himself. Instead, she followed the sound of his voice into a room in the back of the one-level house.

"And where will you sleep?" she asked as she stared at the bed he'd found.

"There's a couch in the front room. I'll take that," he replied. She inspected the bed suspiciously.

"What?" McCoy asked, aggrieved at her reaction to being given the better sleeping accommodations.

"Why aren't you taking the bed?" she asked, giving him a hard look. "Did you rig it to fall down when I lay on it?"

"You're kidding, right?" he asked, anger bubbling up inside.

"In Klingon society, a man doesn't give up a bed to a woman only to take a couch. The couch is the woman's place."

"Well, that's one more thing Klingons have their heads up their asses over," McCoy grumbled. "Where _I'm_ from, a man would never make a woman sleep on a couch when a bed is available."

"And you think this will make me trust you or something?" she asked, annoyed at his constant disdain for everything she told him about her former society. Shakeba had a laundry list of things she was violently angry at the Klingons over but she deeply resented hearing McCoy bitch about the Klingon way of life. It wasn't his to criticize.

"Frankly, I don't care if you trust me more or not," he shot back. "You can sleep on the floor for all I care but you won't do it because I forced you to. I'll be on the couch."

"You're such a condescending…." She searched for the right word to use, "…penis!"

If she hadn't been so venomous in her delivery, McCoy might have laughed at her choice of insult. But he was annoyed that the one kindness he'd tried to offer had been rejected and somehow turned into a fight despite his best efforts…or maybe just his mediocre efforts. Point was, he'd tried.

"I think the word you wanted was 'dick,'" he said drily and she glared at him. "You're not such a great travel companion yourself," he added.

"I'm not the one throwing out insults at every opportunity I get."

"No, you just throw rocks."

They faced each other angrily and with every exchange, they drew closer.

"You deserved that rock," she fumed. "I wish I had another one right now."

"I'll bet you do. Take me out and you'll be able to join all your friends, right?"

She uttered something in Klingon, unable again to find a strong-enough curse in Standard.

"Stop accusing me of being a traitor."

Even as she yelled, she moved closer to him.

"Don't be such a pain in my ass and I'll consider it."

He stepped towards her.

"What if it were you? What if you'd just realized you were raised with lies? Do you think I'd treat you the way you're treating me?"

Her eyes flashed and she inched closer still to him.

"I don't know what you'd do and I'm in no hurry to find out. I get that you've had a rough week but don't expect me to ignore the risk you pose just because you have a good sob story."

He stepped close enough that he could reach out and touch her if he wanted.

"You have got to be the worst doctor – maybe the worst person – I've ever met," she raged. "Sob story? You're calling having my memories erased by the people who killed my parents and then tried to raise me as their own a sob story? Where's your compassion?"

She moved and now they were less than 20 centimeters apart.

"Compassion? You've got a lot of nerve asking for compassion when you came here ready to kill innocent people in the name of stealing resources."

"I saved your life!" Shakeba replied indignantly, lacking an actual comeback to refute his accusation.

"Which would've been completely unnecessary if you hadn't been creeping around the woods in the middle of the night," McCoy said in exasperation.

"What will it take to make you realize I'm not the enemy anymore?" Shakeba asked, exhausted and hurt and angry.

"Maybe you could start by just taking the goddamn bed!"

"Fine. I'll take your stupid bed."

"Don't look so happy about it."

"You're the last person I want to be stuck out here with," she replied hotly.

"The feeling is mutual," he confirmed before dipping his head so that his eyes were level with hers. "I don't like you."

"Good," she sneered. "Because I hate you."

She leaned in and he grabbed her face in his hands, his lips on hers within seconds after her last words. Shakeba wrapped her arms around McCoy and he closed the gap between their bodies. The kiss was vicious and their tongues tangled, each trying to overtake the other's mouth. As it ended, Shakeba nipped McCoy's lower lip between her teeth and tugged it with her as she pulled away from him. Just before it became too painful, she released it. McCoy realized he was truly fucked – she was enticing beyond anything he'd imagined.

"I don't like overly-aggressive partners," he growled, his eyes on hers.

He pulled her roughly to him and moved one of his arms so it was crooked around her neck, preventing her from wriggling her head too much. He kissed her deeply once more. Shakeba managed to get both hands on McCoy's chest and she broke off the kiss by pushing him away.

"I don't like little boys who can't handle strong women," she hissed before advancing on him.

They embraced again, kissing like it was the only thing keeping either of them alive, and Shakeba maneuvered her hands under his shirt, moved them up his back, and then dug her nails in as she clawed her way down his back again. McCoy yelped in pain and pulled away from her. He was pretty sure he'd never been more turned on in his life.

"Don't call me a little boy, sweetheart," he threatened as he moved towards her.

"What are you going to do to stop me?" she taunted him as he grabbed her and kept moving, forcing her to back up. He didn't stop till her back hit the wall and once he had her against it, he snatched her hands in his and pinned them over her head.

"This," he muttered, taking her mouth in his again and pushing his full weight against her to keep her still. He refused to budge even as she pushed against him and her pushing changed. It became less about moving him out of the way and more about fitting her body to his while stimulating his growing arousal. He released her hands and she wrapped them around him while he cradled her face in his hands.

"You're rude," she gasped between kisses, clinging to him.

"And you're dangerous," he breathed before claiming her mouth once more. She loved the feel of his beard against her face, the stubble biting at her skin. Shakeba mewled in satisfaction.

They tugged at each other's clothes, stepping away from the wall and pushing against one another in an almost frantic embrace. His tongue was hot in her mouth and Shakeba pressed against it with her own, drawing something like a moan from McCoy's throat.

"You make me so angry," she panted as he slid his mouth down her jaw and to her throat, the hair on his face giving her goosebumps. He started sucking on a spot where her throat met her clavicle and, for a second, she saw stars.

"You make me want to punch something," he retorted as he moved his mouth back up her neck, nipping gently along the way till he sucked on her earlobe.

His hands were on her waist, underneath her shirt and the heat on her body made her wonder if they'd leave marks where they trailed up towards her breasts even as she realized the thought was ridiculous. She followed suit and reached for McCoy's midsection, underneath his shirt and they parted briefly, just long enough for him to pull his shirt off before his mouth was fused to hers again and she was digging her nails into his back, running them up and down the planes of exposed skin, careful to avoid the tracks she'd already created and drawing another strangled sound from him.

"Why are you such a jerk?" she murmured when their mouths separated once more.

"Why are you such a pill?" he asked back as he peeled her shirt off then pulled her close.

For a few minutes, there was silence besides the soft sounds of their mouths on each other's skin, hands caressing each other's bodies, and the occasional grunt or sigh of approval. As they both became more aroused, they moved closer to the item that had started their fight.

"We can share the bed," Shakeba whispered as she pulled McCoy closer to her for another deep kiss.

But her words broke the mood and he instantly froze then pulled away.

"I'm not sleeping with you," McCoy said stiffly, running his hands through his hair as he took a couple of steps away from Shakeba.

She stared at him, baffled by his sudden change in demeanor.

"Why not?" she asked him with more than a hint of petulant confusion.

"Because, I told you – I don't like you," he replied before turning on his heel and walking out of the room.

"Jackass," she called out but he didn't reply.


	18. Chapter 18

The captain was not paying much attention to what he was saying – Spock could sense the other man's distraction. It was in the details. The captain was taking three-fourths of a second longer than normal to answer questions or to ask them. It was in the distant look in the captain's eyes and the way he kept having to shake himself slightly in order to focus on the issues Spock had laid out with their latest plan to get the com links running consistently. And Spock knew that nothing he was telling the captain was above the human's ability to comprehend. Jim Kirk might play dumb from time to time, when it suited his needs, but Spock had found him to be one of the smartest, shrewdest men he'd ever worked with. Which meant that the captain was bothered by something else. Finally Spock stopped talking.

"Captain…Jim. Your mind seems to be elsewhere right now," he prodded gently, remembering almost too late that the captain preferred when Spock used his first name in private conversations.

"I'm worried about the Klingon sympathizer," Jim admitted.

"Your concern regarding the woman stems from what, exactly? Do you worry she still harbors ties to the Klingons or are you concerned Starfleet will not do enough to protect her?"

"More of the former than the latter," Kirk replied as he finally made eye contact with Spock. The Vulcan quirked an eyebrow up at the captain's reply.

"As President Bittlee has assured us, her information regarding the obslivium deposits has checked out. We have no reason to distrust her currently."

"No reason besides the fact that she helped several other Klingons break out of the medical post during the second quake," Jim answered darkly, looking down at one of the several maps on the computer screen embedded in the table he and Spock were standing over. Idly, he flicked through to another map, showing the damage to the planet-side comms.

"Mister Scott, Doctor McCoy, and Lieutenant Commander Uhura have all assured us she has seen the error of her alliance with the Klingons."

Spock zoomed in on the map so that both men could look at just how badly the quakes had damaged the planet's communications array.

"It's pretty convenient of her to see the error of her ways when stranded with the enemy, Spock."

Jim scrolled to another map – this one of the planet as a whole. On it were markings of where they suspected the Klingon camps might be. They weren't sure if there was just one camp or several. The Klingon informer thought there was just one. But could they believe her?

"Let's say you are correct and the young woman still feels an allegiance to the Klingons. What will you do with her when they make it to the city? If our estimates are correct, they should be here tomorrow."

Jim thought about Spock's question.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I don't want to put her in containment with the other Klingons, especially if she has genuinely repudiated the Klingon Empire. She'd be in a good deal of danger with the Klingon prisoners, if that's the case. But I'm not comfortable letting her walk around freely – not until I've had an opportunity to question her extensively and I don't think we're going to have that kind of time till we're back on the ship."

"Captain, if I may offer a word of advice?" Spock asked as Jim projected the map of Celos-D42 onto the open space above the table, allowing both men to look at the planet's surface in three dimensions. The images for this map had been transmitted by the Enterprise just before she left the planet's orbit. They had to hope this was more or less the planet's terrain for the time being.

"Of course. That's why I'm talking to you about this – for your advice."

"There is an old human saying: 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.'"

Jim smiled. "You been hangin' out with Bones again?" he asked Spock.

"I think you know the answer to that question as the doctor has been separated from us for almost two weeks now," Spock replied humorlessly.

Jim rolled his eyes.

"My point is that if you suspect the Klingon sympathizer to be untrustworthy, keep a close eye on her."

Jim rolled the idea around in his head, scrolling through the geography of the planet on the 3-D map as he did so.

"I can have her housed in a room next to mine in the presidential hall," Jim mused. "If I treat her like a special guest – make her come along to every meeting I attend, let her think I'm taking her input seriously…"

"Then you will simultaneously let her think you trust her while also being able to maintain a close eye on her," Spock finished.

"It just might work."

Their conversation was then cut short by several Celosian Senators and scientists who had agreed to meet with them now to share their own thoughts on a possible idea to get communications functioning. Jim and Spock listened and offered their opinions and when the other men left, Jim couldn't help but wish Scotty, Uhura, and Bones were already back. He knew his chief engineer would have a solution to the communications issues. And he wanted to hear what Bones had to say about the woman they'd been traveling with for the past two weeks. He knew the doctor would tell him in no uncertain terms just how trustworthy or not she might be. Their conversations had been so short and infrequent since the second quake and Jim was an impatient man by nature – he needed to see his senior officers – his friends – again and know they were safe.

* * *

"But what if you had to choose between the Cap'n, Mister Sulu, or wee Chekov?"

"That's not a fair choice and you know it," Uhura replied with narrowed eyes. "Jim's an infant in a man's body, Sulu is happily married, and Chekov is an actual infant."

"Bah, nothing aboot this game is premised in reality," Scotty guffawed. "I've given you yer choices, lass. Now you give me an answer!"

Uhura continued to glare at her camping partner before finally sighing. "Fine, I kill the Captain. I marry Chekov because he's too young to fuck. And I guess that means Sulu and I share one super-awkward night together."

Scotty laughed while Uhura thought up three crew members for him to decide on.

"Okay, your turn. Keenser, Yeoman Rand…and Jaylah."

"No! Jaylah's not a crew member!"

"So? Sulu's not into women but that didn't stop you from making him one of my choices."

"I doona like this game anymore," Scotty grumbled but Uhura simply raised an eyebrow in response.

"Ach, fine. I marry Keenser –"

"I knew it! What is with you two?"

Scotty glared at Uhura. "I marry the li'l bugger because I certainly can't kill 'im and I'm not gonna fuck him."

"And?" she asked with a wicked grin.

"And I kill Yeoman Rand. No offense to Janice – she seems like a perfectly nice lass but there are rules to the game."

Uhura laughed, delighted with the outcome. "I knew you had a thing for Jaylah!"

"She's a very attractive, if abrasive, woman. I'd be lucky to find mehself in her bed," Scotty sniffed.

"Oh, Scotty. She'd be lucky to land you!"

The Scotsman looked at Nyota and gave a shy smile.

"Have you heard from her recently?"

"Aye. She's terrorizin' the entire Engineering department at the Academy. Wish I were there to see it in person."

Ny loved watching how his eyes glazed over and his face relaxed when he talked about their friend from Altimid.

"Soon enough, Mister Scott. She'll be back out here with us before you know it."

"Perhaps. Another round?"

"Why not?" Uhura replied with a shrug. What else were they going to do to pass the time? It was too early for bed.

"Okay, here's a good one. Lieutenant Hendorff, Nurse Chapel, and Ensign Wilson."

Nyota was so stunned she didn't even think to wrinkle her nose at the inclusion of everyone's least favorite crew member, Ensign Wilson. But she knew Scotty was watching her so she schooled her features into a more passive expression.

"Obviously, I kill Ensign Wilson," she started and Scotty nodded enthusiastically. Nyota faltered at the next decision.

"I…marry…Nurse Chapel. Because we're friends, you know. We'd get along well in a marriage. And I suppose that means Cupcake and I bang it out during a one-night stand."

"Friends, is it?" Scotty asked and Uhura turned her full attention on the man.

"What do you know?" she asked with more vehemence than she intended.

"Before now? I just suspected."

"How? No one…you're the first person to say something. Does everyone know?"

"No, lass. I've not heard another soul mention either of you in a sentence together except to point out yer friends."

Nyota continued to stare at him and Scotty finally threw his hands up in the air.

"I doona know. I just had a sense…"

"Please don't say anything to anyone. Please! I have no idea if she feels the same."

"Cross my heart. Not a single word. But I cannae help thinking she likes you as much as you like her."

As touched as Uhura was by Scotty's words, she didn't feel like playing FMK anymore. Instead, the two friends started talking about the ship, wondering how it was doing without its captain – and more importantly, how its captain was faring without it.

"Lieutenant," Scotty said hesitantly once both of them had gotten into their sleep sacs for the night. "Do yeh think the cap'n will be angry when he sees it's just you and me tomorrow?"

Uhura thought about it. "Maybe at first. But I think he'll understand once we explain everything."

"Ah sure hope so," the Scotsman said drowsily.

"Don't you worry, Mister Scott. Leave the captain to me – you figure out how to get the comms back up and I'll make sure the captain doesn't freak out."

"You're a good colleague, lass," Scotty mumbled, already half-asleep. Uhura smiled and closed her eyes, looking forward to reuniting with members of the Enterprise crew.


	19. Chapter 19

Seventeen years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42 

" _Lots of people gamble_ ," Hus reminded his patron gently as they sipped their bloodwine in the study.

" _Yes_ ," Kor replied, slightly irritated. As if he didn't know how prevalent gambling was in Klingon society, especially among the soldiers. " _But this is not a casual thing. Your son is being a bit too cavalier with his money. Frankly, he's being a bit too cavalier with several things – including his position as the eldest-born from a noble House_."

" _What would you have me do_?" Hus asked, careful to keep any anger and frustration from his voice.

" _Watch him closely_ ," Kor counseled the other man. " _The boy that came along with him – he's from one of the lower Houses, yes_?"

Hus frowned as he tried to put his finger on who Kor was referring to.

" _Ovic_?" he finally asked.

" _Yes, that's the one. Can you make arrangements with him to feed you information about Gradogh's dealings_?"

" _You think it's come to that_?"

" _I think you need to find someone you can trust who will tell you what Gradogh is doing with his winnings. I'm sorry, Hus, but the boy is trouble_."

Kor wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. But Hus wasn't so sure his son's friend could be trusted any more than his eldest son. He told Kor as much.

" _Then make him trustworthy – make it worth his time to tell you his friend's comings and goings_."

Hus nodded. Kor had never led him astray and if Kor was worried about Gradogh, then Hus would do what he needed to find out exactly what kind of trouble his son was getting into. And if Ovic was the key to the knowledge he sought, so be it.

* * *

" _Kor was quite impressed with Jokusho tonight_ ," Hus said proudly as he changed into his sleep-clothes for the night.

Katbujo had retired to their bedroom after ensuring that Jokusho had successful delivered postprandial drinks to Hus's study for the men. She was still awake – drowsy, but awake. However, Hus's words caused her to sit up in bed with a start.

" _Impressed_? _How_?"

Hus shrugged, the low lighting throwing his shadows across the bed, causing the gesture to look exaggerated.

" _He said we have a fine daughter – more Klingon than many noble-born sons he has met_."

Katbujo refrained from pointing out that Jokusho was ten times the Klingon Gradogh would ever be. Now was not the time to pick a fight.

" _How long has it been since Kor's wife passed away_?" she asked instead.

Hus got into bed with her and gave her a confused look.

" _I don't know…a year, perhaps a year and a half. Why do you ask_?"

" _One day, he will want to marry again_ …"

Hus didn't miss the slyness in his wife's voice but he couldn't understand how they had gotten from talking about Kor complimenting his daughter to…

It hit him hard.

" _She's only fourteen_!" he bellowed.

" _She won't be a child forever_ ," Katbujo murmured. " _It's not a bad idea to have a plan. She could certainly do worse than your patron for a husband_."

" _He's well over double her age_!"

Hus had heard a lot of insane things tumble out of his wife's mouth through the years but this had to be one of the craziest ideas she'd ever floated.

" _Klingons live much longer than humans. You know that. By the time she's of age, he'll barely be middle-aged_."

Hus shook his head, unsure if he wanted to slap his wife or laugh.

" _We are not giving Jokusho to Kor. Do you understand_?" He fixed his harshest glare on the woman next to him. " _Our daughter is not a bargaining chip_."

Hus had no idea how those words would come back to haunt him later, when they offered Jokusho up to Ovic in order to keep peace between their Houses.

* * *

" _I don't understand why you got to be the one to serve Kor drinks last night_ ," Astori said with a frown as Jokusho concentrated on braiding her sister's hair.

" _Mom told me he requested me_ ," she replied simply, much more concerned over messing Astori's hair up than the events from the previous night. All it had taken was a good night's sleep to make the whole encounter with Kor take on an almost-dreamlike feel. Jokusho couldn't be sure the man had actually asked her all those things. Maybe she had made it all up.

Astori watched as her sister chewed her lip.

" _What was it like_?" she asked, wondering why Jokusho seemed so perplexed.

" _It was strange_ ," Jokusho admitted. " _He asked me weird questions_."

" _Like what_?" Astori turned away from the mirror to face Jokusho and the younger girl made a sound of dissatisfaction as she lost hold of Astori's hair.

" _Leave it, I don't care about the braids anymore. What did he say to you_?"

" _Well, he asked what I thought of his human appearance_."

" _No he didn't_!"

" _Yes he did. And he asked if I wanted him to have Korgihl change my appearance to be more Klingon_."

" _Oh mighty Kahless_! _What did you say_?"

" _What does it matter_?" Jokusho asked, avoiding Astori's eyes, embarrassed by the whole thing.

" _Don't play stupid. You know why it matters. Kor doesn't go around offering free surgery to just anyone. Do mom and dad know_?"

" _No_!" Jokusho was swift and vehement in her response. " _And you can't tell them_! _No one else can know about last night_!"

" _Guess now is a bad time to tell you two I've been over here, trying to nap_ ," came a voice from the mound of clothes, pillows, and blankets on Astori's window seat. Drel'ak peeked out sheepishly, one of Astori's bras draped over his head.

Astori ran over to him and grabbed her bra before smacking him hard across the shoulder.

" _I told you to stop sneaking in here_!" she said angrily. Jokusho remained on the bed, paralysed with fear.

" _I'm not gonna say anything_ ," Drel'ak assured Jokusho as he picked his way out of Astori's mess. Drel'ak enjoyed a good afternoon nap and the best place to take one was Astori's messy room – the sun hit her bay window just right, its bench piled high with her clothes and other items she refused to put away, making it the perfect place for a warm catnap. Drel'ak had been creeping into his older sister's room for years and even though she always yelled and pretended to hate finding him curled up there asleep, everyone knew she'd be heartbroken if he ever took her seriously and stopped spending time in her room.

Both Astori and Drel'ak returned to the bed, one sibling on either side of Jokusho. Drel'ak put his arm around Jokusho while Astori laid her head down on Kokusho's lap, signaling to her younger sister to start braiding her hair once more.

" _You can't say anything to anyone. If mom and dad find out, they'll never let me leave the house again_ ," Jokusho mumbled to her brother and sister as she undid the braid she had started in Astori's hair so she could re-do it.

" _I don't think they'd be that upset_ ," Drel'ak countered. " _But I'm not gonna say a word_."

" _Me either_ ," Astori said, yawning. Maybe Drel'ak was on to something with this whole nap idea. "I wanna hear more about your date the other night," she teased Drel'ak and both siblings said nothing about how Jokusho's shoulders released as she let go of the tension she'd been holding over the possibility that they'd rat her out to their parents.

Drel'ak shrugged as he watched Jokusho braid Astori's hair. " _He was cute...but not break-my-bones cute, you know_?"

" _Gross_ ," Joksuho mumbled as Astori laughed. Jokusho was starting to understand that, for Klingons, pleasure and pain were intertwined. She didn't fully understand intimacy (and she'd rather kiss a targ than have her mother try to explain it to her ever again) but she understood that somehow, Klingons didn't mind pain the same way she did – some of them, maybe all of them, even looked forward to it in certain instances. And that slow realization was simultaneously repulsing her and making her feel ashamed for her human weaknesses.

" _Did you at least pull a hamstring_?" Astori asked as Drel'ak fell back on the bed.

Katbujo came in 40 minutes later to find the three siblings fast asleep on Astori's bed, their limbs tangled together. Jokusho was in the middle and it looked like the other two were protecting her, their bodies turned inward towards hers. In sleep, they mimicked life; the two older siblings guarding the youngest. It was moments like this when her heart felt so full, she thought it might burst out of her chest. These children were her life's crowning achievement. And she knew, as she picked up a blanket out of the mess on Astori's window seat to drape over the three of them, that moments like this would soon come to an end as they grew old enough to move on to their own adventures outside the home.


	20. Chapter 20

In the morning, neither Shakeba nor McCoy acknowledged what had happened the night before. The only change in their demeanor was that they began arguing again almost immediately upon arising and it lasted throughout the day. During the few moments when they weren't fighting, Shakeba would hum to herself and McCoy suspected she wasn't aware she was doing it. He refrained from pointing it out to her because listening to her soft music was about the only thing he liked about the confounding woman he was stuck with. The feeling was mutual, though Shakeba would be reluctant to seeing any positives to the man she was stuck with.

They were following the now-dried bed of what had once been a major river for the planet and even though the river's course had been drastically altered by the quakes and shifts in the planet's plates afterwards, they used the maps on their PADDs to track where it had once been, confirming their findings by the number of ruined cities they came upon in their hike. When nightfall came, they once again had the luxury of finding an abandoned home and seeking out beds within it. This time, they found two beds – in separate rooms no less – so they didn't need to fight. But that didn't stop them.

"And another thing," Shakeba hollered around the toothbrush in her mouth, "I don't need you looking over my shoulder every time I make a decision about which path we should take!" McCoy paced around in his room, waiting for her to finish using the jack and jill bathroom between the two bedrooms. She spit out the toothpaste in her mouth and rinsed. Tired of waiting, he barged in the bathroom once he heard her rinsing her mouth.

"First, don't talk with your mouth full – it's rude and no one can understand a goddamn thing you're sayin'. Second, if I hadn't been looking over your shoulder, you woulda missed that turn today – don't even try denying it!"

He had hoped he'd find a sonic razor – McCoy knew he was in desperate need of a shave but this was what happened when you were stuck living on a planet without adequate supplies for almost three weeks. Yet again, like the house the night before, this one was razor-less. McCoy was starting to wonder if the Celosians didn't need to shave…and how much of a beard he was gonna have when he finally made it back to the ship. Shakeba refused to get out of his way as he looked through the drawers so he gave her a shove with his hip to get at the drawers she'd been standing in front of.

"I'm not taking advice on manners from a brute like you," she retorted, continuing as she stormed out of the bathroom into her own room, "And I would not have missed that turn, you ass! You don't even know how to hold a compass properly!"

"I know how to hold a compass!"

"It was upside down!"

"Well, why the hell should I know how to hold a compass when our PADDs have built-in navigational systems?" he asked, standing in the doorway between her room and the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth.

"You hypocrite – now you're talking with your mouth full and dribbling toothpaste over a stranger's floor!"

He just glared at her in response, grabbed a hand towel off the rack in the bathroom and tossed it at Shakeba before turning to spit his toothpaste out and rinse his mouth.

"You're so worried about messing up empty houses, then you clean it up."

"Typical, entitled, asshole man," she muttered as she cleaned the mess he'd made.

"Incessant, nagging, shrill harpy," he replied from his room, mimicking her.

Shakeba placed the towel back on its rack in the bathroom and McCoy scoffed as he watched from his room.

"That towel's dirty now and you're just gonna hang it back up like it's good to go? I knew Klingons were filthy but this is beyond –"

Before he could finish, one of Shakeba's shoes hit him on the shoulder.

"Stop insulting Klingons," she yelled when he turned to her.

"Stop throwing shit at me," he yelled back. "I thought you hated Klingons," he added as she crossed into the bathroom, her eyes blazing.

"I do! Right now. That doesn't mean you get to," Shakeba answered, flustered and still angry.

"That doesn't make a damn lick of sense. Why do you get to hate Klingons and I don't?" McCoy asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leveling his best 'don't-bullshit-me' glare at her.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," she sputtered. "It isn't my job – Why can't you – You're such a…." Shakeba couldn't get her thoughts out coherently.

"Use your words," McCoy counseled her with just enough snideness to make her look around for something to lob at him.

"I am sick and tired of hearing you throw out stereotypes and criticisms of a culture you've made no attempt to understand. Klingons are not savage barbarians. They have a civilization – it might be different from yours but it is just as complex."

McCoy snorted though he refrained from commenting because he could see from the way she stood, her fists clenched, that this was different from their normal spats. She was truly worked up.

"I have a lot of complicated feelings right now," Shakeba continued after taking a deep breath to calm herself down. "I'm angry at my adoptive parents for what they did. I'm hurt that I lived as an outcast for years when I could have been happy among other humans. But I don't need to hear your uninformed thoughts on why Klingons are so worthy of your contempt."

Neither said anything. McCoy realized he'd pushed her too far and he wasn't sure how to apologize to her without actually having to apologize.

"Klingons say awful things about Starfleet and humans especially. Did you know that?"

She didn't wait for his answer.

"I could tell you all sorts of things they learn about us that are probably wrong but I don't. Do me the same kindness and refrain from commenting on the culture I have spent most of my life in."

For a second they stared at one another, the atmosphere much more serious than it had been before McCoy insulted Klingons for being dirty. McCoy thought about his options and decided to hell with it.

"So you're the mess then, is that it? Got nothing to do with Klingon culture – you're just a slob," he retorted with a gleam in his eye. They both knew he was full of shit – Shakeba was meticulously clean about most things whereas his stuff was strewn about the room he'd chosen as though a hurricane had blown through.

Shakeba marched through the doorway between the bathroom and McCoy's room.

"You can just shut your awful mouth," she spat.

"Make me," he challenged, coming right up into her personal space.

Their lips were on one another almost before he'd finished speaking. Like the night before, they continued to berate each other as they fumbled around his room, groping and kissing like the world was about to end…which wasn't entirely inaccurate for the world they found themselves on.

"I hate everything you do and say," she declared as her hands roved his chest.

"You're the walking embodiment of nails down a chalkboard," he shot back as he palmed her breast through her bra and then buried his face in her cleavage. The feel of his face, of that facial hair against her breasts, made her shiver.

This time, they tumbled onto his bed together and he didn't pull away. Shakeba welcomed his weight on her, thrilled by the feeling of his growing arousal against her inner thigh.

"It sounds like your mouth is full of sand every time you speak," she huffed as she lifted her hips up to meet his.

"Well, you'd be a lot nicer to be around if you never spoke," he replied breathlessly, his hands in her hair, as he ground against her.

For a few moments, they held off on any further barbs, caught up in the sensations of their bodies pressed against one another, while they kissed deeply, repeatedly. Only when McCoy sucked on that same spot at the base of Shakeba's neck and heard her moan of contentment, did he freeze up again. She had been waiting for it this time and when he pulled away from her, she sat up.

"What is it? And tell me the truth. Why do you keep stopping?" She tried to make eye contact with him but he avoided her gaze.

"We can't do this. There are a million reasons why this is an awful idea. I shouldn't have to list them for you. Go back to your room, okay? We need to sleep."

She got off his bed and walked towards the bathroom but turned back around to him before completely exiting the room.

"Of all the things you've done and said to piss me off, none of them is as annoying as when you stop things so abruptly and just expect me to understand why."

She was tired of the game they'd been playing. She wanted him to explain whatever it was that seemed so obvious to him. But McCoy said nothing in return so she left, dimming the lights in the bathroom and her room before crawling into her own bed.

* * *

McCoy awoke from a restless sleep a couple of hours later because of a low keening from Shakeba's room. He called out to her but she didn't stop and he reluctantly got out of bed to find out what was wrong. He half expected to find her awake, perhaps curled in a ball, crying or maybe smiling cruelly at him because she's successfully interrupted his sleep. Instead, as he stood over her bed, he realized she was asleep. But the wail she was making haunted him and, after wrestling with himself over whether to go back to his own room and cover his head with a pillow to drown out the noise, he decided to wake her. He might not like her very much – might not trust her farther than he could throw her – but he could not let whatever nightmare or night terror she was in the grip of continue to stalk her in her sleep like this. McCoy sat on the edge of the bed and shook her shoulder gently.

"Hey, come on, wake up," he begged. It took a few tries but when she awoke, she flailed her arms out, as though fighting some unseen beast and if McCoy had slower reflexes, she would've given him a black eye. Luckily, he ducked out of the way of her fist and caught it.

"It's me," he said gruffly. "Just me. You're okay."

Shakeba took a minute to fully wake up.

"What was that?" McCoy asked her once her eyes focused on him. Instead of answering, she burst into tears. He sighed and put his arms around her, rocking her back and forth slowly, similar to what he would do for Joanna when she had nightmares.

"Everything's okay," he whispered as he rested his head on hers. "You're awake now. Just take a deep breath."

"I saw it," she gasped as she took a couple of breaths. "In my dream – I remember it now."

McCoy shifted slightly so that they were aligned more comfortably with one another.

"Tell me what you saw – if you can."

"My mom – my real mom – I was there when he killed her. I saw it happen," she sobbed.

"Oh, darlin'," he sighed, pulling her tighter to him. "I'm so sorry."

And he was. Maybe she was still loyal to the Klingons…and maybe she wasn't. Regardless of what she'd done and been through before now, there was no way Leonard McCoy could turn his back on someone else's suffering, especially when it was so obvious just how much she was hurting. Just after he'd told her about her parents, she'd had a flood of memories return but there had been gaps she hadn't filled and slowly, those gaps were disappearing as memories came to her, usually at night while she slept. He knew she didn't sleep well because of the memories that floated to the surface. He'd been good to his word and scanned her daily, in the moments when they weren't fighting or ignoring each other. But hearing the pain in her voice made him want to never let go of her. And she was in no hurry for him to stop holding her. Even after she stopped crying and calmed down, she remained in his arms till he finally shifted so they were both laying down.

"I'll stay here for the night, okay? Try to get some sleep," he murmured.

McCoy had trained himself to sleep in short bursts – nothing longer than a couple of hours in a row. Power naps were key to surviving as a surgeon on a star ship and this stint on Celos was the first time he'd attempted to keep anything resembling a normal sleep schedule since medical school. It was not a successful attempt so he watched as Shakeba curled up in his arms and fell asleep once more. For another hour after, he did his best to hold her though it was difficult because she kept squirming around, her arms akimbo. Several times, he thought she might give him that shiner he'd barely avoided earlier. As she fell into deeper stages of sleep, she stopped moving so much and pretty soon, McCoy felt his own eyelids grow heavy as he joined her in sleeping.

* * *

"If you insist on poking me with that thing all night, the least you can do is make sure you're poking in the right place."

The wry tone of Shakeba's voice left no doubt in McCoy's mind that the arousing dream he'd been having had trickled into real life – he hadn't just been grinding against her in his reverie, it turned out. Embarrassed, he avoided her eyes but when he felt her hand on the hard ridge within his pants, his eyes snapped up to hers. Despite her sardonic words, those large, dark eyes of hers were soft and the moonlight streaming in lit her face so he could see her gentle expression. Her long lashes cast shadows on her cheekbones when she blinked and even though he'd already wanted her, hadn't stopped wanting her from the day she drank bourbon in his makeshift office, the need became palpable enough for him to reach out to her. She met him eagerly, her own hands caressing his face gently. He'd only been asleep for a half hour and here they were again, in this same song and dance, only this time, they weren't trading insults.

"Shakeba," he breathed as she moved closer to him. "I want you; surely you know that by now."

"I do," she confirmed. "The feelings are mutual. Why do you keep stopping this?"

"Because," he said gently. "I know from the blood samples we took when you arrived at the medical post – you're not on any kind of contraception. And my own contraceptive hypo was due two days ago."

Understanding dawned in her eyes. "So you're avoiding this because –"

"I'm not gonna risk knocking you up just because I couldn't wait till one or both of us were protected again." He already had one child he never saw because he'd made poor decisions about who he slept with – he wasn't making that mistake again.

McCoy didn't want to think about how many crew members were wandering around the planet with their contraception expired. They tried to stagger the crew so that not everyone needed the hypos at the same time but with a crew this big, it still meant a number of them would be without protection and he'd be damned if he had to open a special OBGYN ward in med bay nine months from now for the humans and Orions, eleven months for the Andorians, and thirteen months for the Tellarites. And those were just the species he could think of off the top of his head.

"I've never been on any form of birth control," she admitted to him.

"Really?" he asked, surprised because almost every human and humanoid being he'd ever known had readily gone on birth control as soon as they were of age. In the 23rd century, birth control no longer placed an onus on just the female of the species and it no longer carried the negative side effects of the early versions.

"Yes," Shakeba continued hesitantly. "I wanted children – I mean, once I was married, I wanted them. Before that…well, birth control for humans wasn't easy to come by and I wasn't having sex before I met my husband so it didn't really matter. And after…well, I guess I'm lucky it wasn't an issue afterwards."

"I didn't know you'd been married," McCoy said, marveling at how much he didn't know about the woman in his arms.

"Well, it's not like you and I have been having in-depth conversations about our lives, right? We fight. That's our thing. But yes, I was married. He died and after, I was given as a mate to another man to strengthen the bonds between our Houses. That did not end well. I would have welcomed children from my marriage. I'm relieved I have none from my short time as a parmaqqay."

McCoy was looking at Shakeba in a new light. For a while, they talked about their pasts, growing up, getting married – he told her about his divorce and she told him about Tsix and leaving Ovic. It was the longest conversation they'd had and the most intimate. As it wound down, Shakeba yawned and curled into McCoy once more.

"You could've just told me your concerns earlier this evening," she said sleepily.

"You gotta be patient with me, darlin'. I'm not very good at this," McCoy replied, brushing his lips against her forehead. "Been a while since I liked someone enough to want to sleep with them."

"So you do like me," she replied triumphantly, suddenly awake and flashing him a huge smile.

"God, no. You're still the worst in almost every way," he assured her. "I just wanna get in your pants."

She hit him in the chest and he grabbed her fist in his. "You pack a powerful punch," he murmured as he kissed her knuckles. "Keep hitting me that hard and I'm liable to hit you back."

"Where I'm from, that's just foreplay," she half-teased. Her hand drifted down below his waistline and she confirmed for herself that he was still very much in the same state he'd been when he'd awakened her with his insistent rubbing against her thigh.

"Speaking of foreplay," he whispered, taking her in his arms and rolling over so he was on top of her, "We can't have sex but there's a lot we can do that won't lead to pregnancy."

"I know," she said, her cheeks flushed with desire. "I would have pointed that out to you if you had just told me about the contraception concerns before."

"I told you, it wasn't just one thing holding me back," he grumbled.

"So what's different now?" she asked as she pressed herself against him, rubbing his crotch and eliciting a moan from him.

"You finally wore me down," he murmured before kissing her hard and deep. And it was true. While alarm bells were sounding in the more practical, risk-averse part of his mind, McCoy was tired of denying himself the enticing woman beneath him – he'd been captivated by her from the moment he'd removed her helmet and there was no way he could continue avoiding his lust – not when she was so eager to be with him as well. Knowing he was violating more than one tenant of not only his personal code of morality, but also his professional ethics, he kissed her thoroughly, allowing the animal part of his brain to take over. He'd gone so long without intimacy and to hell with denying either of them one night of pleasure.

"This is such a mistake," he muttered while pulling her sleep pants down.

"I already regret it," she agreed, undoing his pants and sliding them down his thighs.

He stopped her.

"Look, this is a one-time thing, okay? We do this tonight and then we're done. No more kissin' or foolin' around, right?"

He searched her eyes for agreement.

"Sure. You're probably not very good at it so who's to say I'd want to be with you after tonight, anyway?"

"You little –"

Shakeba kissed McCoy before he could finish his insult and they continued removing each other's clothing till they were naked.

He was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen and she hoped she was doing a better job keeping her emotions off her face than normal because she did not want the arrogant jerk hovering over her to know just how amazed she was by the sight of his naked body. She reached out timidly to touch him, trailing her fingers across his chest then down his abdomen before finally taking his erect dick in her hand.

McCoy prayed to Jim Beam that Shakeba wouldn't realize how infatuated he was with her. She was gorgeous in the moonlight, the shadows playing across her firm, toned, curvaceous body. It was intimidating to be with someone who was in better shape than he was but he refused to dwell on his own insecurities. He had one night to enjoy the woman laying beneath him and he intended to make the most of it. He'd spent so much time trying to ignore her beauty that he finally allowed himself a few seconds to stare at her in all her naked glory. He noticed a series of scars running down the sides of her torso and assumed they were trophies of previous fights she'd been in. Even with the scars, she was breathtaking. As she gripped him in her hand, he kissed her, only breaking the kiss when her grip became too tight.

"Easy there," he said softly. "I'm not a Klingon. You have to be a little more gentle with us mere humans."

Shakeba blushed. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's okay," he said with a lopsided grin. He took her hand in his and interlaced fingers before bringing their joined hands back down to his cock.

"Like this," he breathed as he showed her how tight to hold him, stroking himself with their entwined hands a couple of times to illustrate. He released her hand from his. "Now you try alone."

She watched his face as she gripped him and began to stroke him. "Better?" she asked.

"Oh God. So good," he moaned and she gave him another brilliant smile.

"Your smile could light up the whole room," he whispered, caressing her face.

"I'd say the same thing to you but I'm not sure I've ever seen you smile," she ribbed him as she continued to stroke his erection.

"Keep up what you're doing down there and you'll get more than a smile," he growled playfully, kissing her shoulder as they moved against one another. His hand wandered down to the dark, coarse hairs below her waist and pushed lower still till it found its destination. Idly, he rubbed her as she continued to stroke him. As he grew more excited, his fingers moved with greater purpose and Shakeba found it hard to concentrate on pleasing him because he was causing a pool of desire to form in her stomach.

"I can't do this if you keep that up," she told him, before moaning as he thumbed her clit once more.

"Then stop," he replied. "Let me have some fun now."

She let go of him and he shifted his body so he was crouched between her legs. Initially, he simply stroked her bud, slowly moving his upper body and bracing himself with his elbow next to her shoulder so that he was above her and able to kiss her senseless. He loved the feel of her lips in his, the taste of her mouth, and the way she unabashedly kissed him back, her own tongue as aggressive as his. As he felt her grow restless, her moans taking on a more plaintive sound, he adjusted so that he could still use his thumb on her clit while slipping a finger inside her. His reward was her gratified sigh. Soon, he slipped another finger in and began to pump a little harder, and just slightly faster. She groaned in appreciation. When he added a third finger, he began to thrust in earnest and he could feel, from the increased slickness and the way she moved against him, that he was giving her exactly what she wanted. She ground herself against his hand, whimpering as he thrust harder, deeper. He sought out the spot inside her that would send her over the edge and when he found it, she cried out. He felt her walls tightening around his fingers. He continued stroking her as she rode out her orgasm and he was mesmerized by her face – by how expressive she was as she came and how she locked eyes with him in certain moments, unashamed of the depth of emotions she was sharing with him.

After the first orgasm, she made a move to return her attention to him but he swatted her hands away.

"I'm not done," he growled and she stilled.

He kept stroking but now he trailed his mouth down her chest, stopping briefly to give needed attention to her breasts before resuming his downward progress. She loved the way his beard felt against her breasts and he seemed to understand the effect it was having because it couldn't have been coincidence, the way he drug his chin across her breast as he switched from one nipple to the other. Surely, he knew exactly what he was doing. A glance upwards at her face, his eyes twinkling as he sucked on her nipple and rubbed his cheek against her breast confirmed to her that he was in complete control and knew she liked feeling the rough hairs of his face against her silky soft skin. Once he was between her legs, at her center, he licked her bud slowly, languorously. She tasted salty with a hint of a spice he couldn't name. Shakeba moaned and he continued to take his time until she grew impatient again and then he began to suck. His fingers continued to pump inside of her and she started to move against him once more, her hands tangled in his hair. They traded leads as she would begin to move faster against him, then he would begin to thrust harder or faster in her. As she got close to the brink, he removed his fingers and she made an exclamation of frustration to which he just smiled.

"I don't think I like your smile as much as you like mine," she complained.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "I know what I'm doing. I'm a doctor, remember?"

She muttered something about how she hoped he didn't do this for all his patients but he refocused on her core, moving his mouth to lick inside her, causing her to yelp in pleasure as his stubble came into contact with her most sensitive areas. He continued to switch his fingers and his mouth between her clit and inside and she rocked against him, incoherent with want. He brought her to the brink another couple of times before finally giving her the release she wanted, sucking her clit as he fingered her, finding the spot that sent her over the edge the first time. She screamed when he finally pushed against the right spot, the combination of his mouth and hands almost too much. When she finally collected herself and caught her breath, he pulled away from her and moved to realign himself so they could see eye to eye once more. Wordlessly, she grabbed his hand – the one that had driven her wild, and she sucked on his fingers, never looking away from him.

"Goddammit, Shakeba," he muttered, his erection twitching. "I want you."

She simply smiled and pushed his chest so he was lying flat on his back. She straddled him effortlessly and whispered in his ear, "My turn."

She wasted no time. Her hand was gripping him, stroking him before she pulled away from his ear and she didn't bother trailing kisses down his chest like he had done for her. She felt the urgency within him and responded in kind, moving lower so she was straddling one of his legs. She licked him up and down his shaft before sucking his head and as she used her hands and mouth on his cock, she rubbed herself, still wet from his ministrations, against his thigh keeping rhythm with her strokes. He groaned and grabbed her hair in two fistfuls, doing everything in his power to keep from thrusting too hard into her mouth but she pulled away and kept stroking and moving against him while making eye contact.

"Don't hold back," she said in a husky voice that sent shivers through him.

"My God," he moaned in reply but he was happy to oblige her and he pumped furiously into her mouth as she took him deeper and deeper. He stopped worrying over hurting her and held her head down on him as he thrust. She matched his rhythm as she rocked against his thigh and the feeling of her wetness on his leg drove him wild. He wanted her to come with him and moved one hand down to her back, pressing her against his leg to indicate that he wanted her to keep rubbing herself against him. She did, her movements growing more erratic as she came closer to her own orgasm. Still, through it all, she remained consistent in her attentions to his cock and he found himself in awe of her ability to multitask. She used one hand to stroke herself and he felt the shiver run through her body as she finally drove herself over the edge a third and final time. It was the push he needed to trigger his own orgasm.

"I'm gonna come," he warned her as he felt his balls tighten and he let go of her hair in case she wanted to pull away. But she remained, making a final downward bob to take all of him into her mouth and throat, winking at him. She guessed from the tone of his voice, and his increasingly inconsistent thrusts that he was close to release. The actual words he said meant nothing to her – Klingons didn't refer to climaxes in such mild terms. When he came, it surprised him with its force. He felt like it was never going to end, that he'd just empty himself into her warm mouth forever but finally, he slowed his pumps until he had nothing left and he pulled out slowly as his dick began to soften. Shakeba remained, cleaning him and then laying her head on his hipbone as she caught her breath.

He stroked his fingers through her hair until she lifted her head and they came apart, only to reconnect once they were side by side again.

For once in his life, McCoy couldn't think of anything to say – no smartass remarks, no praise would suffice – all he could do was stare at Shakeba and hope she'd understand what he was feeling, what he wanted to say – by looking in his eyes. Shakeba was exhausted but felt better than she had in years and even though she wanted to thank him, she was afraid to break the silence. He reached out and draped his arm around her and she took it as an invitation to roll over and into him so they were spooning. McCoy had never been much of a cuddling person but after that, he wasn't about to tell her she couldn't snuggle in close to him so he kept his arm around her waist, ready to drift to sleep with her.

* * *

"Good Lord, how many times do you need to move around to get comfortable?"

"Maybe I could get comfortable if you didn't steal all the blankets and pillows."

The night's sexual activities might have been amazing, but Shakeba and McCoy quickly realized sharing a bed with one another wasn't what it was cracked up to be. Even after they finally fell asleep, the problems continued.

"If you snore again, I will smother you with this pillow," Shakeba hissed as she hovered above McCoy's sleeping face, a pillow clenched in her hand. When he again made a noise while breathing, she threw the pillow at him, waking him up.

"Goddammit, did no one ever teach you to solve your problems without violence?" he complained after pulling the pillow off his face.

"You snore," she replied grumpily.

"Yeah, well, you flail around AND talk in your sleep."

"I do not talk in my sleep!"

Shakeba knew she couldn't deny the flailing. Tsix had woken up on more than one occasion with a bump on his head or a swollen lip from her nighttime restlessness.

"You've been muttering in Klingon all damn night. And then you asked me if I thought tribbles wished they could dance," he told her. "When I tried to answer, I realized you were fast asleep."

She was quiet for a minute and McCoy wondered if she'd already fallen asleep again when she broke the silence.

"I've always liked tribbles. I know I shouldn't, what with being raised by Klingons, but they're just so cute, you know?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever. It's 0300 hours. Go the fuck to sleep."

McCoy rolled over to go back to sleep himself.

"You took the blanket again, jackass!"

McCoy grunted in annoyance and pulled the blanket to give more to her. "I am never sharing a bed with you again," he muttered as she flipped over, kicking him in the process.


	21. Chapter 21

Twenty-four years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

" _Daddy_ ," Jokusho cried, running to Hus, " _Gradogh says I killed his older brother but I don't remember killing anyone_ …"

Hus glared at his son, who was running just behind Jokusho.

" _That's because your brother is teasing you_ ," Hus replied as he picked up the little girl. While a human might struggle to pick up an eight year old child, for a Klingon, it was like picking up a newborn.

" _I am not teasing_ ," Gradogh replied with a stamp of his foot. " _T'udrok was killed wherever you found her from. I want my brother back instead of her_."

Hus cast a cold eye on his oldest living son. " _Continue this line of discussion and you will regret it, my son_."

Gradogh blanched slightly and held his tongue. No one spoke out against Hus when he had that look in his eyes and that tone of voice. Still, the boy knew something wasn't right. T'udrok was dead and even if it was supposed to be a wonderful thing because he'd died in combat, Gradogh missed his older brother. He didn't want this poor replacement who wasn't even strong enough to wrestle properly. She looked funny too and Gradogh didn't like how his friends teased him for having a human as a sister. Casting one last glare at the child in question, Gradogh slunk off to his room to pout. It wasn't fair that everyone acted so careful around the human girl. He wanted to know why she replaced a perfectly good older brother.

Jokusho played with her father's hair as they both watched Gradogh walk away.

" _What else has your brother been telling you, my pet_?" Hus's voice was friendly but his eyes were cold. He wanted to know exactly how much damage his son may have caused, however inadvertently.

" _Nothing else_ ," Jokusho replied. Something about her reply made Hus click his tongue at her.

" _Tell me the truth_ ," he chided his youngest.

" _He told me you're not my real dad_."

Hus stared down at his daughter. " _And does that upset you_?" he asked, searching her face for clues to her mental state.

" _No. You and mommy already told me you found me_." She had the resilience of a seven-year-old. She had yet to grasp the complications of adoption, of her alien-ness in Klingon society, and of the missing part of her life removed from her memories. It sufficed that she had been found and taken in by Hus and his family. She didn't like that some of the older kids made fun of her but she also hated eating gladst (like most Klingon children – it was an acquired taste) so it was hard to say how much of an impact her otherness was having yet. Still, Hus worried constantly about the tiny girl, frightened for the time she would regain her memories or realize how different she was from everyone else and ask hard questions.

He sat down on a bench in the courtyard and set Jokusho down beside him.

" _Would you like to know more about how I found you_?" he asked as she swung her legs back and forth.

" _Okay_ ," she said happily, always content to have time alone with either parent.

" _I was coming home from a business trip when my ship lost its right engine_ …" Hus began.

Later, after he'd told her his story, one that he and Katbujo had worked on tirelessly so that they would both be able to answer any questions she might have, Jokusho looked up at her father.

" _I didn't kill your other son_?" she asked with the simplicity of a child.

" _Of course not_ ," he answered quickly. " _T'udrok died before I found you_." It wasn't a lie nor was it the complete truth but it was all she needed to know. Happy with his answer, she slid off the bench and ran to join Drel'ak and Astori in their play.

* * *

Twenty-one years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

" _You're just a weakling, hiding behind your family's name. You have no honour_ ," the boy taunted.

" _Am not_ ," Drel'ak sniffed, wiping his nose and seeing the purple blood from it on his sleeve. " _I've got more honour in my finger than you'll ever have_."

" _Get him_ ," another boy yelled.

" _Make him pay_!"

" _Today is a good day to die_!"

Several boys closed in on Drel'ak and he squared his shoulders. " _I'm not gonna be the one to die today_ ," he snarled as the boys advanced.

The scrum whooped and yelled as the fight began but even as he dodged the blows of the other boys, Drel'ak heard one scream above all others. It was too high-pitched and growing closer. He didn't know whether to be happy about it or worried. He could take care of himself with little injury but taking care of her as well? That might be a tall order for an 11-year-old Klingon.

But Jokusho was never one to hold back when someone was threatening a member of her family. She'd even thrown in for Gradogh on more than one occasion and everyone knew they didn't like one another.

" _Your mother has a smooth forehead_!" she yelled as she tackled one of the boys, pulling him down to the ground with her and punching him with everything she had.

" _You're one to talk_! _You're nothing but an ugly human_ ," another boy shouted as he grabbed Jokusho from behind and flung her off his friend.

Momentarily stunned from being hurled off her prey, Jokusho nonetheless sprang up, ready to fight again.

" _You don't eat gagh_ ," she yelled at the boy who had thrown her. " _Prove me wrong_."

Too busy with his own fights to help her, Drel'ak was still impressed that his sister was shit-talking and ready for another round.

The siblings did the best they could but they were sorely outnumbered and as Drel'ak caught a glimpse of Jokusho, with her nose bleeding that strange, bright red blood of hers, he wondered if perhaps she regretted stepping into this battle. He also worried she would end up more battered than him.

But a familiar roar broke through and Drel'ak looked up in relief. Gradogh.

" _You honourless targs_!" he yelled at the group, which froze at the oldest Morc boy's words. " _Beating up those younger than you because you can only hit like Ferengi grandmothers_."

The space cleared as Gradogh walked through it. He grabbed Jokusho by the shoulder and jerked her away from the boys surrounding her. " _This one has water for blood and you think if you beat her, you will somehow be worth something_? _Disgusting_." He gave her just the slightest of nods before turning to Drel'ak.

" _The only one who gets to beat this brat is me. Now get out of here before I invert your ribcages, fill your sinuses with urine, and make a necklace containing the boiled teeth of every last one of you_."

Gradogh drew his knife as he spoke and the crowd dispersed quickly. Drel'ak and Jokusho jeered at the boys running away, shouting, " _We are Klingon_!" repeatedly to them.

" _No_ ," Gradogh commanded both of them. " _You don't get to make victory chants when you would have been pulverized without me_ ," he lectured. He then turned to Jokusho. " _And you never get to claim you're Klingon. You could have gotten yourself killed, tiny one_."

Jokusho glared at him. " _Don't call me that_!"

" _What, tiny one_? _Don't call you what_?" He goaded her as they circled one another.

" _You know what_ ," she spat.

" _You're small and weak_ ," he prodded.

She unleashed a cry and ran at her oldest brother, hitting him at the knees and yanking his left foot so he lost his balance and fell on his backside. But Gradogh had earned the reputation that led to all the other boys fleeing. Even knocked down, he was quick to grab Jokusho by the neck and press her to the ground, a knee in her back.

" _Do you yield_?" he asked and she continued to squirm, trying desperately to get out from under him.

" _Do you yield_?"

" _Come on, Gradogh. Leave her alone. She was just trying to help me_."

" _She'll get herself killed helping one of these days. She needs to know her place_."

Stars dancing in front of her eyes, and her airways blocked, she finally hit the ground with her palm and tried to choke out her response. She couldn't get the words out until Gradogh removed his weight from her back, flipping her over so she could see him towering over her.

" _Say it_ ," he menaced as she panted, trying to fill her lungs with sweet oxygen once more.

" _I yield_ ," she croaked.

" _Good. You're an idiot, you know that_? _So smart when it comes to books and so stupid in the real world_." Nonetheless, Gradogh offered her his hand and she took it, allowing him to pull her up off the ground.

" _You know what it would do to mom and dad if you got hurt_?" he asked her roughly.

Jokusho remained silent, letting Gradogh lecture her the rest of the way home. Later that night, she heard a knock at her bedroom door and opened it. Drel'ak looked at her sheepishly.

" _Thanks for what you did today_."

" _You would have done the same for me_ ," she replied, equally embarrassed.

" _Yeah, but it means more from you_ ," he said quickly before giving her a tight hug and then darting back to his own room for the night. Jokusho stared after him. She was pretty sure it meant less for her to come into a fight – she was a liability, unable to fight as well as the others. But somehow, Drel'ak always seemed to assign a special value to her. And she accepted it – from him – because he was the first to defend her when the roving packs of boys descended on her.

* * *

Sixteen years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

" _I… just…don't understand exactly how it works. And don't tell me to ask mom. I'm not asking mom about this ever_."

" _I'm not gonna send you to mom_ ," Astori replied with a roll of her eyes. " _Only Gradogh is that petty. But I don't understand. What are you confused about_?"

Astori knew Jokusho had already received "the talk" from their mother. And while Katbujo didn't go into explicit detail, undoubtedly as uncomfortable to be talking about such things as her children were listening to them, Astori wondered which part of "the talk" had given Jokusho pause.

" _Where, exactly, does his stuff go_? _How long does it last?_ _What am I supposed to do_?" Jokusho became increasingly panicked as she listed her concerns and Astori's eyebrows moved higher up her forehead as she listened to Jokusho's concerns.

" _Wait, do you actually have someone you're considering doing it with_?"

" _Well, no. Not yet. But I could_!"

Jokusho felt a sudden defensiveness at the look Astori was giving her.

" _What_? _I'm not that ugly…am I_?"

" _No, you're not. But you're also a daughter of the highest House on Boreth. You're not just gonna hook-up with randos_."

" _Why not_? _You've been doing it for years_."

Astori took no offense at Jokusho's words. It was true. She'd been getting laid with regularity since she was 14. But she was a very different person from Jokusho.

" _Yeah, I have…because I could get away with it. Come on, Joku. You really gonna tell me you'd be willing to give it up to the first guy that comes along_? _If so, I can find you a guy tonight_."

Astori's challenge, and the fact that Jokusho knew her older sister would follow through if she said yes, made her look down, her cheeks flaming red.

" _That's what I thought_."

" _Please, Astori. Please tell me about what it's like. Even if I don't find someone anytime soon, someday I will and you'll be married with a billion kids by then. Just…tell me what I need to know_."

" _Sure, sure. I'll tell you. Even better, I'll show you_." Astori grabbed her PADD and sat next to Jokusho on her bed.

" _Wait, what_?"

" _I'm gonna show you porn. It's the best way to really understand things_."

Jokusho was pretty sure porn was not, in fact, the best way to learn about sex but who was she to argue when Astori had actually had a lot of sex and she'd had none?

Astori typed in a command and held the screen out so both girls could watch but before pressing play, she gave her little sister a hard look.

" _You tell anyone about watching porn with me and I'll deny it to my dying day. I'll sic Gradogh on you_."

" _I promise_ ," Jokusho stuttered. " _I'll never say anything to anyone_."

A little later, Jokusho had answers to at least some of her questions. But there were a couple lingering concerns.

" _Is it always so rough? I'm not sure my bones are ready to be broken_ …"

" _If you're gonna be with a Klingon, your bones will have to get used to some damage. That's how you know it's good sex_."

Jokusho gave Astori a dubious look.

" _For the right one, you'll want to break a bone or ten_ ," her sister assured her. " _Anyway, who says you'd be the one with all the broken bones_? _What if you break some of their bones too_?"

Jokusho decided to think about her biggest concern, unconvinced that she'd ever like someone enough to let them break her bones. She certainly couldn't imagine herself hurting another in a display of affection. But it did explain why Astori was always using the bone knitter after a night out.

" _So…what happens when you don't have two vaginas_?" she asked Astori hesitantly.

" _Oh yeah. I guess that would be something you need to know. Don't worry._ " Astori typed a quick command into her PADD and held the screen up again.

" _What now_?" Jokusho asked, feeling mildly queasy.

" _Now we watch Klingon/human porn_."

" _That exists_?" Jokusho squeaked.

" _Oh, sweetie. There's porn for everything_."

After the first holovid, Jokusho's eyes were as wide as saucers and Astori turned off the PADD before the next vid started.

" _Hey, it's okay_ ," she said, giving her sister's back a rub. " _It's not really like that in real life_."

" _But…where else would the other penis go_?" Jokusho asked, feeling dazed. " _I…I don't know if I can do that_."

Astori was starting to regret using porn as a learning instrument. It had made so much sense at first – it was how she'd studied up on sex and that had worked out well.

" _You don't have to do that – certainly not your first time and maybe never, if you don't want to_ ," Astori said softly. Jokusho slowly looked over at her.

" _I'm serious_ ," she continued. " _Sex is supposed to be fun and feel good. Never let anyone talk you into doing something you don't want to do, okay_? _The right one – they'll understand, alright_?"

Jokusho nodded slowly before getting off her sister's bed and moving to the door.

" _Maybe it's good if I wait a bit before I try it_?"

" _Sure. Take your time_ ," Astori replied. " _There's no rush_."

Later that year, Astori would get engaged. The next year, she moved out of the House and started her own family with her husband. But she never forgot that conversation with Jokusho – one of the last times the two girls had been so candid with one another. And after Jokusho left Ovic, Astori did her best to visit, to help take care of her little sister. When her husband complained about Jokusho, was ready to believe Ovic's lies, Astori lashed out at him with a vehemence that surprised both of them. In her mind, Jokusho was always that timid 15-year-old on the cusp of adulthood, uncertain of how or who she was supposed to be in a world that wasn't quite hers.


	22. Chapter 22

It took Scotty and Uhura a day longer to arrive in the capital city of Celos-D42 than they had expected. Scotty was good at many things but being navigator was not one of them. Uhura had finally wrested control of the PADD from him and rectified the mistakes he'd made but it had added an extra day to the trip. Jim and Spock were the first crew members they met on their return.

"Where's Bones? And the Klingon sympathizer?" Jim demanded impatiently, after hugs had been exchanged. Uhura gave Scotty a sideways glance.

"Doctor McCoy went with Shakeba to dismantle the Klingon drill," Scotty said tentatively.

"What? You left him alone with someone who shot at our crew? To go back into Klingon territory?" Jim wasn't happy.

"Captain, it's not like that," Uhura replied.

"What, exactly, is it like, lieutenant?" Spock wasn't unkind in his words – Uhura knew he was trying to help her calm Jim down even while the golden-haired man began pacing restlessly.

"She remembers being kidnapped by the Klingons," Uhura started.

"I know that," Jim snapped in return. "Still doesn't mean we should trust her."

"She helped design that drill," Scotty bristled. "She's the best person to take it oot. Yeh can think what you want aboot her but we believe she's on our side, sir."

"And what about Bones?" Jim countered. "You think it was a good idea sending him into Klingon territory?"

"We think it was the best idea we could come up with given what we had to work with," snapped Uhura. This was not the homecoming she'd had in mind.

"I believe the lieutenant makes a valid point," Spock said to Jim and Uhura shot him a look of gratitude. "Given the circumstances, they acted in a most logical way. Doctor McCoy's aversion to fighting aside, I see no reason to doubt his ability to handle himself with the Klingon sympathizer, if she has indeed changed her thinking."

"She has," Uhura insisted. "She's with us now."

Up until Shakeba had confessed to them about the obslivium and why the Klingons wanted it, Nyota had held her own doubts about the other woman. As much as they had talked, and Ny had wanted to believe in Shakeba, it was only after she began sharing information with them, and had her breakthrough regarding her suppressed memories, that Nyota had finally allowed herself to fully trust Shakeba. But now, she was all in on believing in Shakeba's change of heart. And she'd be damned if Captain Kirk planned to sit there second-guessing her. Nyota had been living in the woods for almost 3 weeks now. She needed a shower, food that wasn't a tiny woodland creature she'd had to kill herself, and her captain's confidence, and it didn't need to be in that order. So she held her ground, staring down Jim, refusing to be the first to look away.

Jim glared at all three officers before finally sighing.

"I'm sorry, guys. I know you did what you thought was best. I just…I want off this planet. Last we heard, there are more ships coming to help with evacuating the Celosians but without stable communications, I feel like we're blind out here. Reminds me too much of Altimid."

Uhura softened her glare, knowing how deeply Jim had been affected by losing so much of his crew in that mission.

"Cap'n, I have an idea for temporarily rebooting our com links," Scotty replied, quickly forgiving the younger man. Everyone was stressed and with good reason.

Jim, Spock, and Scotty began discussing what Scotty would need to execute his idea and Uhura half-listened as she looked past them to the city. Celosians and Enterprise crew members intermingled. A medical triage post had been set up in the city square and Uhura caught sight of a certain blonde head. She'd know that hairstyle anywhere.

"Excuse me," she mumbled to her colleagues, leaving the three men deep in conversation. They barely acknowledged her departure.

Nyota walked down the slight hill she'd been standing on with the others, her pace brisk. As she got closer to the square, Christine Chapel looked up from the patient she was attending and their eyes met. Christine's smile at the sight of her friend caused Nyota to quicken her pace. The nurse finished her task and bid the patient to rest before leaving the triage tent and walking towards Nyota. Her pace quickened as well and soon, the two women were running, embracing one another in the center of the square, laughing and refusing to let go.

"I was so worried about you!"

"Me? I kept trying to comm you but it never went through!"

"Did you get my PADD messages?"

"Just one. Oh my God, I'm so glad you're okay!"

They pulled away from one another but only enough so they could look at each other, their arms still wrapped firmly around each other. Christine gave Nyota a once over with her eyes, inventorying every scratch and misplaced hair on her best friend. Meanwhile, Nyota drank in the sight of Nurse Chapel, her hair done up in the standard French twist, her blue eyes sparkling, her uniform hugging her in all the right places…suddenly, Nyota realized how grubby she must appear in comparison.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, looking down at herself and trying to pull away. "I must look and smell a mess."

"Nonsense," Christine replied, keeping a firm grip on her friend's waist. "I only got here two days ago and trust me, I think I found a tree growing in my hair when I finally cleaned up. You look much better than I did."

Uhura smiled, allowing herself to be pulled back into a close embrace. "I don't know about all that…"

"I do. God, Ny, I missed you so much. I was so worried. You're all okay? Leonard didn't spontaneously combust out of rage?"

Nyota laughed. "He's fine. He's with a human woman we captured –"

"I heard all about it. Is she…is he safe?"

Nyota nodded.

"He's fine. More than fine."

Uhura ignored the pit of nervousness in her stomach. She hoped they both made it back safe. If only they had some security red shirts with them to help.

Christine brushed a loose strand of hair behind Nyota's ear and the two women looked at one another for a beat.

"I was really worried about you," Christine said softly.

"Me too. I couldn't stop thinking about you…"

Nyota blushed. They were best friends. It wasn't weird to tell your best friend you couldn't stop thinking about her, was it? But the longer they looked at one another, the more Nyota began to see something deeper in Christine's eyes. Was it possible? Did Chris feel the same way for her?

"Chris…" Nyota whispered as they pulled closer to one another.

"Shh, don't stop me because I'm never gonna have the courage to do this otherwise," Chapel admonished her. Nyota wasn't about to argue – she'd wanted this for long enough.

Their lips met gently, tentatively, but as they kissed, their confidence grew. Nyota felt a rush of adrenaline as she realized she was kissing the woman who'd been on her mind nonstop for the last couple of months.

The square around them was filled with beings bustling around and no one batted an eye at the two women kissing in each other's arms. Similar reunions had been taking place for the last couple of weeks, between crew members and Celosians as more beings poured into the capital city seeking relief and familiar faces.

From their lookout on the hill, Spock was the first to see the two women kissing. His inability to pull his eyes away, even as Jim questioned him on the logistics of Scotty's plan made the other man turn to see what was so engrossing and Scotty followed the gaze of the other two men as well.

"Hot damn!"

"I do not see how an expletive can be hot or cold," Spock replied, never taking his eyes off his ex.

"It's a figure of speech, Spock," Jim said patiently, wondering if Spock wasn't just fucking with him 90% of the time when he acted like he didn't understand human phrases. "Well, looks like we now know why Uhura dumped you."

"Should we just be standin' here, watchin' the lassies? Seems a bit…creepy," Scotty piped up.

Jim and Spock looked away, one blushing pink, the other a slight green hue.

"You're right, Mister Scott," Jim agreed. "Besides, we've got a lot of work to get done quick if we want the com links back up. Shall we?" He nodded to the other two to descend the hill with him.

Uhura wasn't the only one to have a happy reunion with a friend – Scotty found Keenser at the edge of the city square, awaiting his orders.

"Aw, me wee friend! Good to see yeh again," Scotty said fondly, fighting the impulse to hug the other being. Together, they walked off to begin working on the links.

"You okay?" Jim asked Spock. Uhura and Christine had retreated from the square before they'd arrived. Jim hadn't seen where they'd gone but he was guessing Spock knew exactly which path they'd taken.

"I am fine, captain. Why would I not be?"

Jim rolled his eyes. Anything he attempted to say would be met with Vulcan frigidity. Might as well cut his losses.

"Right. Well, I'm gonna go after Scotty. If you'd be interested in grabbing dinner later?"

Jim didn't expect his first officer to agree so he was pleasantly surprised by the response.

"I would be most amenable to dinner. Should we meet at 1900 hours?"

"Sounds good, Spock. See you then."

* * *

After her much-anticipated shower, as she was drying her hair, Nyota heard the door chimes.

"Come in," she called out, and the doors opened at her words.

Christine walked in with a bin of hair and face care supplies.

"I had a feeling you might not have had time to replicate some of this stuff," she said with a smile.

"You are a lifesaver!" Nyota dug through the bin, making enthusiastic noises at the various products. Of course Christine had replicated all her favorite products. That was the nice thing about being attracted to your best friend – you knew each other well enough to know little things like favorite hair products, and you cared enough to put together a basket of said products.

"A lifesaver, huh? Tell Len that when performance reviews are due, will ya?"

Nyota chuckled as she rubbed moisturizer across her face. It felt so good to be clean again. And the shower! It had been actual water. Uhura had giggled with gratitude as the hot water had poured down on her. But as wonderful as she felt, there was a nagging concern in her mind and as much as she wanted to make sure Christine knew just how much she cared about her, Uhura knew it would do neither of them any favors to ignore the pointy-eared elephant in the room. Her mind made up, Uhura finished taking care of her face and turned to Christine.

"Do you think…anyone noticed us on the square?"

"Anyone? Or someone in particular?"

Nothing got by Christine and Nyota gave her a half-grin.

"Okay, fine. Do you think Spock might have seen us?"

"I don't know. Can't say I was too worried about who might have been watching."

"Scotty knows," Nyota admitted in a rush, before explaining about her conversation with the chief engineer two nights beforehand.

Christine listened and nodded.

"I think Len suspects as well," she confessed. "When we were prepping medical supply bins before coming down here, he made a comment."

"What'd he say?" Nyota asked, wondering why the doctor hadn't said anything to her while they'd been out in the woods together.

"You'd sent me something via PADD and I was laughing about it. He asked what was so funny so I showed him and then he got all…you know how he gets weirdly earnest sometimes?"

Nyota nodded.

"So he got that look on his face and he said something about making sure I didn't take our friendship for granted."

Nyota thought about it for a moment.

"Huh. That's interesting."

"I know. Especially given what happened back at the Academy…"

"Do you think that's what he was thinking of?" Nyota stared at Christine.

"I don't know. I mean, I'm not even sure what happened back then – coulda been nothing."

"Maybe. I didn't know either of them as well as you. And they've been inseparable since the Nero incident."

"I only really knew Len back at the Academy. And I never did find out what he was so upset about that day at the Academy clinic. But Janice swears –"

"Janice says a lot of things that aren't true," Nyota countered, with a healthy amount of affection. Both she and Christine were fond of Janice Rand but everyone knew Janice loved gossip, even – maybe especially – when it wasn't entirely accurate.

"Besides," she added with a sparkle in her eyes, "whatever might have been there back at the Academy, I'm pretty sure Len's got eyes on someone different right now."

"What?" Christine asked in a mix of incredulousness and curiosity. "Tell me everything!"

Nyota sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to her for Christine to join. She outlined what she and Scotty had observed between McCoy and Shakeba out in the woods, ending with: "They're either going to kill each other or end up married."

"Get out. I cannot wait to meet this spitfire."

"You're gonna love her. She totally calls Len out on his shit."

"She really threw a rock at him?"

Nyota nodded, a huge smile on her face.

"Maybe I should start throwing hypos at him when we get back to the ship."

The women laughed then grew quiet once more, both aware of how close they were sitting to one another.

"So," Christine started, returning to an earlier topic, "Some people know about us."

"Which means it won't be long before EVERYONE knows," Nyota grumbled, standing up to head to the washroom and change for dinner.

"Hey," Christine replied, grabbing Nyota's hand and pulling the other woman back to face her, "Is it so bad if people know?"

Nyota looked down into Christine's blue eyes and wrinkled her forehead in thought.

"I don't want a reputation of jumping from one crew member to another, you know?"

Christine made a noise.

"Come on. Who else do we have to date besides other crew members right now? You do realize Pavel has made it through almost every woman in engineering. Everyone dates around on the ship and no one is going to care about you and me. We'll be news just until the next time someone kicks Pavel out of their quarters."

"That boy really does get around," Nyota mused.

"It's the accent. Mixed with the curls. How can they resist?"

Nyota smiled down at Christine, aware that Chris's hands were slowly inching their way up her thighs. She rested her own hands on Christine's shoulders while shifting her feet so that Christine's legs were between her own.

"I know we were talking about going out for dinner," Christine murmured. "But what if we stayed in?"

"I thought we didn't care about being seen by other crew members," Nyota countered with a grin as she sank down and straddled the other woman.

"You know I'm not worried about being seen….this is more about spending some quality time alone."

Before Nyota had time to come up with a quip in response, Christine's lips were on hers. Chris's hands had moved up to her ass and pulled her closer while Nyota opened her mouth to allow for a deeper kiss. Together, Christina and Nyota fell back on the bed, giggles escaping them between long kisses.

As they moved against one another, Nyota was once more struck by how comfortable the transition from friends to lovers was with Christine. Dating Spock had been a challenge from the beginning – one she had wanted, to be sure – but a challenge nonetheless. In contrast, this seemed to flow naturally. One moment, they were best friends and now, as Christine ran her hand up from Nyota's butt cheek to her breast, they were lovers. It felt right. No, it felt fucking amazing.

Suddenly, Nyota forgot that she'd been hungry; forgot that she'd been anxious about Spock and his possibly hurt feelings – the only thing she cared about was the woman in whose arms she was tangled and staying in became the best decision ever made as she felt Christine's mouth glide down her throat.

Nyota ran her hands through Christine's hair, ruining the nurse's tidy updo in seconds. Christine shook her head to allow her shoulder-length hair to fall in soft waves around her face and the two women shared a smile before drawing close to kiss once more.

* * *

"Surak's great and all, but don't you sometimes think it would have been better if Vulcans had decided to embrace just a little more willingness to display emotions?"

Jim watched as Spock continued to do what he had done all dinner long – nod as though he were actually listening.

"I mean, what's a little emotion every now and then, right?"

Another nod. Jim rolled his eyes.

"You're not even listening. At this point, I could tell you I'm about to enter pon farr and you'd just nod."

"An incorrect statement, Captain, as the human reproductive cycle does not provide for a state of agitation like pon farr."

For the first time since they'd sat down to dinner, Spock's eyes were focused on him.

"So you are paying attention."

"As much attention as the conversation warrants."

"Damn, I'm pretty sure that was an insult."

The two men stared at one another for a beat.

"As difficult as this might be for you to understand, not every moment needs to be filled with conversation. Especially if the conversation leans more towards the vacuous or insipid side of the spectrum." Spock raised an eyebrow at Jim as he spoke.

"I'm just trying to be a friend, Spock."

"A gesture that is appreciated more in theory than in practice."

It was Jim's turn to raise his eyebrows. While the words had been delivered in Spock's typical monotone, there was a light in the Vulcan's eyes as he spoke. It had been a while since he'd seen Spock this sassy.

"If you'd prefer, I can take my dinner to go and leave you without my sparkling wit," Jim challenged his first officer.

"What if you stayed and stopped trying to make small talk?"

"Well, what do you want to talk about, then? Why don't you direct the conversation for a bit?"

"What if we just enjoyed a little silence? I know humans are almost incapable of handling silence but what if we gave it a try?"

"Fine," Jim agreed, never one to back away from a provocation. And even though the first few minutes felt like the most awkward hours of his life, Jim finally felt himself unwind as he sat quietly across from Spock. He found himself focusing on the ambience of the restaurant – the taste of his meal, the sounds of the other diners. It was…relaxing, in a way he hadn't expected. After taking a moment to close his eyes and allow the sounds, smells, and feel of the restaurant to wash over him, Jim opened his eyes to find Spock giving him an appreciative look.

"If you think this is going to get me to finally agree to meditation with you…"

"You do feel more calm and centered, do you not?"

"That's beside the point."

But Spock simply smiled in return, knowing he had scored a major victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. Hope you're enjoying the story! I am looking for a beta reader and it seems like a good idea to start here, with those of you reading this story (because hopefully that means you're familiar with Star Trek and you like my writing style). Though I originally intended for this to be around 150k words, it's grown into something larger and I'm looking for someone with whom I can share what I've written and my ideas for what's to come. I'm not interested as much in grammatical assistance; rather, I'm looking for someone to help with editing, stylistic choices and plot questions. If you think you would be interested, please feel free to send me a PM over on tumblr (I'm lawsomeantics38 over there as well). We can talk, get to know one another a little bit, and go from there. Thanks for your consideration! LLAP


	23. Chapter 23

When Shakeba woke up, she was alone in bed. She rubbed her face, feeling where it was raw from repeated close contact with McCoy's stubble. Remembering that her last interaction with the man had been a volley of insults lobbed at one another while both were half-asleep, she didn't feel that concerned about finding him. He'd probably gone back to his own room, where he could wrap himself in all the blankets without having to listen to her bitching. But then she heard movement in the bathroom and realized he was using the sonic shower. She yawned and padded over to the bathroom to brush her teeth.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" McCoy shouted from the shower stall.

"I'm brushing my teeth."

"Damn fool, stop talking with your mouth full," he muttered.

Shakeba spit and rinsed before responding. "Don't ask me questions if you don't want answers."

"You ever heard of privacy?"

"Relax," she answered. "It's not like I intend to join you in the shower."

"There'll be hell to pay if you do," McCoy muttered. It was as close as they came in the light of day to admitting to their nighttime activities.

They finished getting ready and left the house, ready to continue their trek to the Klingon mine. They bickered, like usual, but interspersed between the arguments were conversations.

"Can I ask you something?" Shakeba demanded tentatively as they followed the dried riverbed towards the Klingon mine. Their path today was taking them down the side of a fairly steep hill.

"Even if I say no, you're gonna ask me anyway, so go ahead."

"In my dreams, when I see my birth mother…sometimes – most of the time – she's wearing a head wrap. Do you know why?"

When McCoy didn't answer immediately, Shakeba turned to find him staring at her thoughtfully. Thinking he might not know what she was talking about, she offered further explanation, using her hands to gesture as she spoke.

"It covers her head, but not her face. And it comes down to here. The fabric is light and it usually matches what she's wearing. She tends to be in dresses – long ones with long sleeves. Is any of this making sense?"

"It's a hijab," he finally answered and she gave him a questioning look. "The headwrap – it's called a hijab."

"Hijab," she repeated, testing the word out, feeling how it sounded in her mouth, deciding she liked it. "Why was she wearing a hijab? Is that a thing human women do on Earth?"

"Not all of them," McCoy replied. "Your parents were both from the Middle East. Your mom was from Lebanon and your dad came from New Iran. Both places are known for their Muslim heritage. What your mother was wearing – it's traditional Islamic dress."

"Muslim…Islamic?" Shakeba gave McCoy a confused look.

"It's a religion," he explained. "You know, like Christianity or Judaism?"

"I don't know what any of those are," Shakeba admitted, feeling sheepish for how little she knew about human culture…her own culture.

"What's there to know?" McCoy replied glibly. "They're all kinda the same, aren't they? Some higher being that's supposed to watch over people as long as they keep in line, based on whatever arbitrary guidelines dictated in some ancient text."

Shakeba gave McCoy a mildly scandalized look. "You…don't believe in a religion?"

"You do?"

"Of course! Klingons are raised to believe in Kahless. There's a monastery dedicated to him on Boreth so I've spent my life watching people come to pay homage to him."

"After all that's happened, you still believe in that Klingon warrior cult nonsense?"

Shakeba wanted to be more outraged by McCoy's attitude and words but the truth was, she didn't know if she still believed in Kahless. It had been a struggle for her since Tsix's death.

"I don't know if I believe in Kahless," she confessed. "But I do believe there's something out there. You really don't?"

McCoy snorted as he held out his hand to push some branches away as they made their way down the trail, which was growing more narrow the further they went.

"I don't believe in hoo-doo voo-doo mumbo-jumbo," he grumbled as he offered his hand to Shakeba so she could jump over a gap in the path.

"None of those words means anything to me," Shakeba grunted as she jumped.

"I believe in science, medicine, things we can prove. Can't prove there's a God in the sky looking down on us," McCoy clarified as they continued walking.

"But…you always talk about God," Shakeba argued with a furrowed brow.

"Huh?" He looked at her in confusion.

"It's just…You're always saying things like 'My God' or 'For God's sake.'"

McCoy almost laughed. "I just say that because I picked it up from my dad…and he probably picked it up from his dad and so on. It don't mean I believe in a God."

Shakeba stopped a moment and pointed to a swart'hal about three meters away from them. She angled herself so she was in front of McCoy and he did nothing to stop her, besides putting a hand on her waist to steady her. They waited in silence for it to cross the path. McCoy was in no hurry to repeat his first encounter with the needled animals.

"Why are you so skeptical of religion?" Shakeba asked him as they continued down the path, walking side by side, and perhaps closer to one another than strictly necessary.

McCoy thought about it for a moment.

"Human history is filled with wars and conflicts that arose because of religion. These days, there are a lot of humans who adopt the trappings of a certain religion not because of the beliefs as much as because those trappings have come to represent where they're from. For example, your parents. Maybe they wore the clothes associated with Islam to signal to others that they were from a specific area of the world where Muslim traditions linger. It likely had little to do with actually believing in Islam."

"But what if they did believe?" Shakeba asked, her eyes always so curious when she asked him questions. He turned away from her, not wanting those large, lovely eyes on him.

"Good for them," McCoy said in a tone that seemed to convey the opposite. "I don't think it was likely. Your dad was a scientist, after all."

"So am I!" Shakeba cried out, offended. She stopped walking and McCoy did as well. "I am an engineer, like he was and I believe there is more out there than what can be seen or experienced!"

They stared at one another for a beat, neither moving.

"Is that why you look down at Klingons? Because they believe in a religion?" she asked after they started walking again.

McCoy took a minute before answering. "I don't know. Wasn't the Klingon at the center of your beliefs an actual soldier who lived however many years ago?"

Shakeba nodded. "We – Klingons, not we…" Shakeba faltered, giving McCoy an embarrassed look.

"It's okay," he replied gently and she stared at him, unaccustomed to kindness from this man. McCoy understood the confusion – she wasn't the first person he'd surprised with compassion when it was least suspected.

"You don't have to be ashamed if you still think of yourself as Klingon," he continued. "It'll take a while to adjust, you know." He gave her a small smile and she returned it with a tight one of her own.

"Klingons did believe in gods at some point," she said, returning to their original conversation. "They decided the gods were weak and killed them all, or so the legend goes. But yes, Kahless was a real Klingon."

McCoy nodded. "Kahless," he repeated, testing out the word in his mouth. Everything about Klingons, from their customs to their language, had always seemed so alien to him. Now, he was starting to realize there might be more in common between Klingons and humans…a thought that was discomfiting in many ways.

"To me, the Klingon belief system seems like more of a warrior cult than a religion the way I would think about human religions. But that might be a shortcoming on my part. I think most humans don't like Klingons because every interaction we've had with them has ended badly. And both sides are probably to blame for that."

Shakeba stopped walking and McCoy turned to find her staring at him, her expression unreadable.

"What?" He'd tried to answer the question as honestly as he could.

"I just…this is the first time you've talked about Klingons without throwing out stereotypes or insults." Her eyes were soft as she spoke.

"Yeah, well, I listen when you yell at me," he replied. She gave him a look. "Okay, okay, sometimes. Sometimes I listen when you're complaining."

She smiled and began walking again.

Minutes later, they were squabbling over which direction to take as the path they were on split into two different routes. And even though McCoy felt like each day was a slog, walking kilometers upon kilometers with no one else but Shakeba to interact with, he was surprised how quickly night came. Again, they found themselves entering an abandoned home, arguing over which one of them should take the couch and which should take the mattress as the bedframe it was on had been cracked in two.

"I'm shorter than you so it makes sense for me to take the couch!" Shakeba insisted, unable to comprehend why McCoy was being so stubborn about wanting the couch.

"I'm not gonna make you sleep on the couch when something more comfortable is available." He was so irritated by her constant refusal of his manners.

"You're already an asshole when you get a good night's sleep. I can't imagine putting up with you after you try sleeping on that couch for a night," she sniffed, taking her top off.

"I haven't gotten a good night's – What the fuck are you doing?"

Shakeba walked past him in her bra, folding her shirt and dropping it next to her survival pack.

"What do you mean? I'm changing for the night."

Shakeba wasn't sure why he was gaping at her.

"You can't just take your clothes off in front of me."

"Why not? You've seen me naked before."

"Doesn't mean I need to see it again," he muttered, turning away from her as she removed her bra.

"You had no problem with it last night," she retorted, offended that he preferred to look away rather than see her breasts.

"I told you, that was a one-time thing. From now on, we keep our clothes on around each other."

She paid him no heed and removed her pants.

"That is not what I agreed to," she corrected him, wearing nothing but her panties. McCoy strained to think of the last time a half-naked woman had lectured him as he turned away from her. "I agreed we wouldn't be intimate with each other. I never said I wouldn't get undressed in front of you."

Seeing how flustered he was, even with his back to her, Shakeba stopped rummaging in her bag for her nightshirt. "What is wrong with you? Are you really so lacking in control that you can't handle seeing me undressed? You men are all alike. Nothing but a bunch of hormonal animals pretending to be tame."

McCoy spun around at the accusation.

"Animals? I'll have you know I would never touch you without your consent," he said emphatically. "I don't care how tempting you might be."

"And what if I do want you to touch me?" she asked with a sly smile before pulling her nightshirt down over her head. She swung her hips in an exaggerated manner as she adjusted the shirt and McCoy had to fight back a groan at the sight. Seeing his pained expression, she gave him a wink.

He advanced on her.

"Do you? Do you want me to show you what you do to me?"

He stopped short of actually touching her, waiting for her reply.

"Of course I do," she said with a small smile. "But I thought that was just a one-time thing."

His response was to pull her close and kiss her hard.

"So, it's a two-time thing now?" she asked breathlessly when he finally released her mouth from his.

"No talking," he replied. "No fighting, no insults. Just this," and he kissed her again, their hands on one another as they fell onto the highly-contested mattress.

"Ow," Shakeba cried as McCoy's elbow hit her rib while he cursed over her knee digging into his thigh.

"You okay?" he asked her, looking at her in concern.

"I'm fine," she murmured. "Why'd we do that?"

"Because we were focused on something other than a graceful landing," McCoy said as he brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. "That kinda thing always works better in the holomovies," he muttered.

"Maybe it's a sign we should stop," Shakeba said with an upturn of her lips and a look of mischief in her eyes.

"Like hell," McCoy replied before kissing her insistently. He tugged on her nightshirt. "Shoulda just stayed naked," he tsked.

"You're the one who found my nudity so off-putting," she mumbled between long kisses.

"Not off-putting," he argued when his mouth wasn't on hers. "Alluring, enticing, desirable."

Shakeba could listen to McCoy rattle off synonyms all day long if he'd do it in that voice, with that look in his eyes. She was surprised her nightshirt didn't spontaneously combust with the way he was looking at her. It was possessive and raw and she wanted to remember that look forever because she hadn't had someone want her like this since Tsix. Ovic didn't count. He never counted.

McCoy did away with her scant clothing quickly and Shakeba worked to catch up, removing his as fast as she could. They couldn't help looking at one another in awe once they were naked. For a few minutes, they touched each other reverently, both overcome with the fact that the other wanted this, was willing to allow caresses and kisses. Once again, McCoy eyed the scars on Shakeba's sides. They were so symmetrical. He wondered how she had received them but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. There was a naked woman in his arms – he had other things to focus on.

"I wanna try something," he whispered in Shakeba's ear, trailing his mouth down to her neck, nipping her skin softly when he wasn't sucking on it.

"Anything," she replied, burying her face in his hair, her hands on his chest. She loved his smell – sweat and musk combining with something vaguely antiseptic to create a scent unique to him alone.

He pulled away once she'd given him her blessing and repositioned himself. They were on their sides, facing one another but now his head was….oh! She realized what he meant to do just as he looked up at her with a devious smirk.

"Wonder which one of us can hold out long enough to finish?" he asked as he grabbed her leg and draped it over his shoulder, angling himself for the best position to reach her most private parts with his mouth and hands.

Shakeba was torn between melting into a puddle because she couldn't wait to feel him on her and inside her again and needing him to know she was going to give him a helluva fight.

"May the best woman win," she murmured, adjusting her position so that she could grip his cock and take it in her mouth without problem. His response was to stroke her, sending a shiver through her body.

Shakeba had always found this act to be particularly enjoyable but also one which left her feeling especially vulnerable. Not being able to easily make eye contact with her lover while performing something so intimate at the same time as something equally intimate was being done to her – it left her feeling somehow defenseless. And that was fine when the lover in question had been Tsix. But what did she really know about this man beside her, currently burying his face in the apex of her thighs? She gasped as his facial hair bit into the sensitive skin around her center. It felt so good. She'd worry about how little she knew regarding Doctor McCoy until later. Much later. She had something better to focus her attentions on right now.

McCoy relished indulging this part of himself. Jocelyn had never liked oral – being the recipient or the giver so McCoy had refrained from it while they were together. And most of his sexual interactions since had come in the form of one-night stands, some of whom he never saw before or after the night in question. So his opportunities to enjoy this kind of activity had been limited despite how much he liked both giving and receiving oral attention. Why he was letting this woman – someone who had not proven herself to be particularly trustworthy – partner in this was a question he'd deal with later – like once he was back on the ship, away from her constant presence. For now, it sufficed that they made each other feel good. As she did something with her mouth that sent a wave of pleasure through his body, and forced a moan from him, McCoy revised his previous thought. She made him feel fucking incredible. He hoped he was doing the same to her and the groan he coaxed from her a moment later gave him a rush of confidence.

They were competitors, the both of them, and neither Shakeba nor McCoy was going to give up without giving it their best efforts. Distracted by the pleasure each was receiving, they worked slowly and it took longer than usual for either of them to bring the other close to orgasm. After bringing each other to the edge repeatedly, McCoy finally bested Shakeba. She blamed the facial hair but as she came, she decided there was really no loser in this game. After she returned to reality, she quickly finished him off and put up with him crowing over his success.

McCoy couldn't help a little bragging but at the same time, he wrapped his arms around Shakeba after she repositioned herself. She had hesitated for a moment when she sat up, unsure whether she should stand up and leave for the night – sleep in her own bed. McCoy was having none of it, grabbing her hand and tugging her down to him, demanding silently that she curl up for at least a few minutes after their escapades. They lay together, not speaking, Shakeba skimming her fingers along McCoy's chest while he ran his fingers through her hair.

"I got a question for you," McCoy stated and the smile on her face was replaced with an inquiring look.

"You never shut up – even in your sleep, you chatter away. But when we're foolin' around, you're oddly quiet. Why?"

Shakeba's cheeks turned red.

"I…don't know what to say in Standard," she confessed. "I could tell you how you make me feel, what I want you to do, in Klingon, but I'm not sure how to say any of it in Standard – I don't know what counts as good or appropriate sex talk."

He stared at her.

"You serious?"

"Of course!" She was offended by his doubt.

"Darlin', just translate what you would say into Standard."

"I don't think it's that simple," she countered.

She was pretty sure if she told McCoy his penis was a fine sword that she wanted him to stab her with repeatedly, he'd never let her live it down – even to her unexperienced ears that sounded strange in Standard. But she had no idea what humans said to one another. Shakeba wished Uhura was still around to ask these kinds of questions to.

"You won't be sure till you try," he said with a soft grin. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna laugh at you, I promise."

"Liar. You and I both know you'd laugh your ass off if I said something ridiculous."

She had a point; they both knew it.

"Why don't you follow my lead, then?" he asked as he grabbed her hip.

"Mmm, you're going to teach me all the good sex speak in Standard?" she whispered seductively, her own hands on his chest.

"Somethin' like that," he growled in her ear as she straddled him and he sat up to meet her body with his own.

They kissed, a long, wet kiss that left her breathless. She felt her skin tighten as goosebumps formed on her arms while McCoy's mouth trailed down her jaw and over to her ear.

"I want you," McCoy whispered in her ear. "I wanna make you scream again, Shakeba."

She felt a thrill in her core at the sound of her name on his lips but she was surprised.

"Already?" she asked and he pushed up against her so she'd know just how serious he was.

"Oh!"

"Do you want me too?" he whispered, after sucking on her earlobe.

"Yes," she breathed and he pulled away, giving her a look to continue. "Yes, I want you. I want you so very much."

He trailed his mouth down her neck, and she trailed her hands down his back.

"Say my name," he coaxed her from between her breasts.

"Doctor," she sighed in bliss. "Doctor McCoy."

McCoy couldn't help it – he laughed, pulling away from her cleavage. Shakeba gave him a cross look.

"You can't call me doctor in bed, sweetheart," he said between chuckles.

"But that's what I know you as," she protested. He kissed her shoulders, continued to plant soft, sweet kisses up her neck till he reached her lips.

"Here, in bed, call me Leonard, or Len, or Leo – anything but Doctor McCoy." He looked at her with bemused eyes and she gave him a small smile.

"Leonard," she said, testing out his first name before saying it a second time with longing. "Leonard."

"That's better," he murmured.

"Yes?" she asked, unsure of herself.

"Yeah," he confirmed before kissing her deeply again. He laid back on the mattress and she remained upright, enjoying his gaze.

"I like when you look at me like that," she said, growing more confident with every sentence. "It makes me feel beautiful and powerful."

"I love lookin' at you, darlin'. You are beautiful. And powerful – maybe a little too powerful," he added with a lopsided grin, thinking of all the times she'd thrown things at him or hit him in her sleep.

"Sorry," she said with a bigger grin.

"You're not the least bit sorry."

His hand was on her breast and she closed her eyes as he tweaked her nipple.

"Seemed like the right thing to say," she sighed, rocking against his arousal.

"Keebs, I can't wait to get back to the ship with you," McCoy replied and he watched her eyes fly open when he called her Keebs.

"That okay?" he asked her. "If I call you Keebs?"

She thought about it for a minute, still moving against him.

"Yes," she finally agreed. "I like it."

'Keebs' reminded her of how Astori and some of her friends had called her 'Joku.' It was affectionate and something about McCoy's willingness to treat her like a friend – it was almost more enticing than the sex stuff. Almost.

Shakeba bent down and kissed him, then trailed her mouth to his chest, before looking up and finding his eyes on hers.

"You want me on your ship so we can get our injections."

"Not the only reason, but yeah, I'm looking forward to fucking you senseless."

She wrinkled her brow at him.

"I thought that word was only used in anger or exasperation…"

"What? Fuck?"

She nodded.

"Darlin', 'fuck' might be the most useful word you can know in Standard. It can be used in a lot of ways. But its literal meaning is to have sexual intercourse."

He gave her a licentious grin as he ran his hands up her back.

"Language is so strange."

"Not what I'm interested in focusin' on right now," he growled as he grabbed her hips and ground against her.

She gave him one of those smiles that lit up the room.

"I want to make you arrive," she whispered and, this time, McCoy furrowed his brow at her.

"Isn't that what you said last night? You were going to come?"

He smiled.

"Come is the right term. Arrive doesn't mean the same thing as come in bed."

"I don't know if I'm ever going to understand sex talk in Standard," Shakeba said with a shrug.

"What would you say in Klingon?"

"It's different for men and women. If a man is on the brink of an organism, he might tell his partner that he's about to explode or detonate."

"Orgasm," McCoy corrected with a smirk.

"Orgasm," Shakeba repeated thoughtfully, even as the two of them moved together, McCoy's fingers finding her bud and rubbing softly.

"What is it for a woman?" he asked.

"A surrender," she gasped.

"Your terminology for sex – it's conflict-based."

Shakeba thought about it, as much as she could while he was driving her crazy with his talented hands. McCoy gently pushed her off of him and continued his ministrations as he lay beside her. He was right, she realized. Klingons did treat sex as an invasion, a conquering or conquest of one body by the other. Even when she and Tsix had coupled, the words seldom matched what she had actually felt. Much like saying "I'm coming" meant nothing to her in Standard.

"Perhaps… no language… is… adequately equipped… to describe what… this… feels like," she said, her words breathless as McCoy brought her closer to a second climax.

"Maybe," he whispered before catching her lips in his own.

Later, after they'd driven one another to points of pleasure where words became unnecessary, Shakeba again curled up against McCoy, her head on his chest, listening to the beating of his heart.

"If we pull this mission off, what do you think will happen to me?" Shakeba asked McCoy after a few minutes.

"What do you mean, if? We better pull it off," McCoy answered with false casualness at first then looked down to see how serious her face was. He'd been working so hard to keep his own concerns about their mission hidden and seeing her so openly unsure filled him with dread. Still, he needed to do whatever he could to ensure she felt confident – if they were going to be successful, it would be because of her.

His eyes softened. "I don't know, darlin'. You'll come on the ship with us and we'll get you to safety. From there, you can figure out what you want to do with your life now."

"You won't turn me over to the Klingon Empire with the other prisoners?" she asked, the worry in her eyes shooting straight through to his gut.

"Good God, no," he assured her, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face. "You've had a change of heart. Starfleet will understand that and they'll help you start over."

She gave him a grateful smile and settled against him once more as he ran his fingers through her silky hair.

"What is our plan, exactly?" McCoy asked.

"We're averaging about 40 kilometers a day right now which should put us arriving at the Klingon drilling camp in four days," Shakeba replied. "We should get there close to nightfall, which is good. We need darkness."

She continued.

"You'll stay with me, offering any covering fire, should we be caught. I'll work on taking the drill out and once it's disabled, we run. It won't take them long to figure out what's happened."

"And you think they'll know it was you?"

"Probably," she conceded.

"Think they'll come after us?"

"Yes. That's why we'll need to move quickly and quietly. Once we're out of the camp, you should be able to comm Scotty and get him to transport us away – either to the capital or the ship."

McCoy sighed. "I hope this works."

"Me too."

Her voice was small and McCoy was hit by how helpless she seemed. Was this the real Shakeba? Was the tough aloofness she normally displayed an act? But he watched as a steely determination entered her eyes.

"It'll have to work," she added and McCoy kissed her forehead as they both settled in to sleep for the night.

Of course, settling in was a whole process in and of itself. McCoy loudly complained that Shakeba was as bad as a cat, circling round and round before she found the right spot but as she pointed out to him, he was no better. While shifting to get comfortable, McCoy's hand slipped under Shakeba's pillow.

"What the fuck is this?" he yelped as his fingers brushed against something hard and metal.

"Oh, be careful. That's my d'ktahg – my knife."

"You're sleeping with a knife under your pillow?"

"Of course! Wait, you aren't keeping your phaser under your pillow?"

McCoy looked at the woman next to him like he'd never seen her before.

"No! Why would I do that? What is wrong with you?"

"The closer we get to the Klingon camp, the more likely we are to encounter deserters or scout patrols. And if we run into either, you will be very happy I sleep with a knife."

McCoy grunted but he got up and grabbed the phaser in his bag, gingerly placing it by his side of the mattress. Shakeba just smiled and kissed his cheek but even as she snuggled against his side, her elbow digging into his ribs and her legs encroaching against his like wild vines, McCoy couldn't shake his worries.

"You awake?" he asked, already knowing Shakeba wasn't sleeping because she hadn't said a word, much less punched or kicked him yet.

"Mmm, what?" she asked drowsily.

"How likely is it we run into Klingons before we get to the camp?"

Shakeba propped herself up on her elbows to look McCoy in the eyes.

"You really hate fighting, don't you?"

"I'm a doctor, not a killer."

"Don't worry, Doctor. I'll protect you."

McCoy rolled his eyes and Shakeba ruffled his hair before laying alongside him once more.

"You didn't really answer my question."

"Go to sleep, Leonard."


	24. Chapter 24

Eighteen years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42 

" _But I'm supposed to go out tomorrow night – if we do the Second Rites today, I'll still be sore_ ," Astori complained over breakfast.

Gradogh snorted. " _Can't put it off forever, you know_."

Astori glared at him.

" _You'll do it today_ ," Hus replied calmly. " _A little soreness might be good for you_." He gave his oldest daughter a pointed look.

Drel'ak fought back a laugh and Jokusho wrinkled her brow. She didn't understand what was being left unsaid.

" _Fine_ ," Astori replied in a tone that conveyed the opposite.

" _Just get it over with, dear_ ," Katbujo said, patting her daughter's hand. Astori pulled away as though her mother had burned her.

" _I don't understand why I have to go through it at all. I don't intend to BE a warrior – I intend to RAISE warriors_."

" _You go through it because you are a part of the highest House and I won't have anyone thinking my children rest on their laurels_." Hus gave Astori a hard look.

" _Whatever_ ," Astori grumbled before stalking off from the table.

Jokusho didn't understand why her sister was so bitter. She couldn't wait to do her Second Rite. She looked up at her dad with bright eyes.

" _What about me_? _When can I do mine_?"

She didn't miss the look exchanged between her parents.

" _Soon, honey_ ," her mother replied in an attempt to placate her.

Jokusho pouted. " _You said that last time_. _Drel'ak got to do his and you're practically dragging Astori out today to do hers – when's it my turn_?"

" _Yeah, when's it Jokusho's turn_?" Gradogh repeated with a wicked gleam in his eyes. Hus slit his eyes at his oldest son.

" _What about next year_?" he asked Jokusho.

" _A whole year_?" Jokusho complained. " _Why do I have to wait so long_?"

" _Because you need to be strong enough to undergo the ritual_ ," her mother explained. " _And part of that strength is patience_ ," she added, seeing the girl's mouth open.

Jokusho closed her mouth, still annoyed. She knew it was pointless to argue any further. But she'd hold her parents to the deadline. In one year, she would get her Second Rites.

* * *

Fifteen years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

A year could make a lot of difference. Jokusho had realized, by the time one year had rolled by, exactly why her parents had wanted her to wait for her Second Rites and she allowed them to postpone the ritual for another two years. But at age 16, aware of the concerns they had for her health, she insisted they let the Second Rites occur. Even while she put her foot down in front of them, she worried privately that she wouldn't make it through the ceremony.

" _If… I don't make it, you have first claim to anything of mine that you want_ ," she told Drel'ak over a holocomm after explaining to him her intentions to receive her Second Rites that year.

" _I don't want any of your stuff_ ," he replied impatiently. " _I want you to make it through the Rites_."

It had been a particularly rough school year for Jokusho. She'd grown taller, but not as tall as her classmates. And the comments about her appearance had grown louder as her peers tested the boundaries of what they could get away with when it came to the human among them. Drel'ak had left the House to fight on the front of a skirmish between two powerful Klingon Houses and she'd missed his protection at school. He knew she'd held her own against the increased bullying at school but she needed to prove herself still. And it had to be through something like the Second Rites – something that would broadcast her "Klingon-ness" to those around her.

But Drel'ak knew just as his parents had known as they had stalled over and over when it came to letting Jokusho take her Second Rites – there was more than a good chance that she wouldn't survive the painstik walk. She needed to make it through two rows of four Klingon warriors, each prodding her sides with their painstiks. Eight different wounds – four on each side. Painstiks, if not administered carefully, could kill humans. And the warriors would not be careful. Not for the youngest member of House Morc.

Drel'ak realized his reply had hurt his sister as he gazed at her via the screen in front of him. " _I'll take your PADDs_ ," he said to assure her. " _And the lab stuff_."

" _Thanks_ ," she breathed, her eyes huge.

There was no way Drel'ak would allow Jokusho to die. Seeing her so full of fear, but resigned to her fate, he promised himself then and there to make sure she'd live. And he knew exactly who to ask for help.

* * *

" _I thought you might want these_ ," Katbujo murmured as she entered Jokusho's room, having been granted access.

Jokusho turned to see what her mother offered and gave her mother an inquisitive look as she stared at the mass of cream foam in her arms.

" _It's padding_ ," Katbujo explained, dropping the various pads on Jokusho's bed. " _For under your armor_."

" _Is that allowed_?" Jokusho asked carefully as her mother organized the various pads by bodily location.

" _Well, it's not explicitly forbidden. These are for your sides_ ," she said as she pointed to the thickest pads. " _But I have ones for your arms and legs too_."

" _They aren't supposed to poke me anywhere but my torso_."

" _I know. But it doesn't hurt to be ready_."

Jokusho and Katbujo shared a look. So much passed between them unspoken.

" _Thank you_ ," Jokusho finally replied, working to keep her voice steady.

" _Of course_." Her mother responded in an equally thick voice.

* * *

The next knock on her door was Hus.

" _Come in_ ," Jokusho replied, fighting back a sigh. She wanted solitude to prepare for what lay ahead but recognized her father's distinctive knock and figured today wasn't the day to turn him away. If anything, she needed to savor the moments they shared since these might be their last moments together.

Hus entered her bedroom, his arms laden with heavy armor.

Father and daughter said nothing for a beat as she took in the pile of metal in his arms and he examined his youngest daughter as well as the pile of padding on her bed. It appeared he was not the only one doing what he could to keep her safe. Finally he cleared his throat.

" _I had this made for you_ ," he placed the armor on her bed, next to the padding. " _It's fitted to you and thicker than what might normally be worn for a Second Rites ritual_." Jokusho reached out to touch the plates that would cover her torso. She traced her fingers over the patterns.

" _It's beautiful_ ," she replied reverently. She hoped she'd be a worthy wearer of the fine metalwork.

" _Not as beautiful as the girl I see before me_ ," Hus answered, allowing his sentimental side an indulgence.

She moved to him quickly and he embraced Jokusho tightly. It had been a long time since he'd hugged any of his children – Klingon mores dictated that when children were old enough to initiate their First Rites of Ascension, they no longer needed things like hugs. But Hus had always wondered just how true that adage was – he missed the feelings that hugs afforded him. And judging by Jokusho's tight grip, he wasn't the only one who missed the affection.

" _Thank you, daddy_ ," she whispered, not bothering to hide her tears.

" _Whatever happens, know how proud I am of you_ ," Hus replied, pulling away to stare into his daughter's eyes. " _You have brought honour to this House_."

Jokusho nodded and Hus left the room, knowing he'd be unable to keep his emotions in check if he stayed any longer. She watched him leave and hung her head. She would only truly bring honour to the house if she survived today's ceremony.

* * *

She almost expected the third knock. Of course everyone in the House would stop by to pay their respects. Perhaps this would be one of the servants, coming to say their goodbyes. But she was surprised to find Astori on the other side of the door.

" _I asked mom and dad if I could help you dress for your Rites_ ," she explained as she breezed past Jokusho and into the bedroom. Astori had left the House earlier in the year, after getting married. Jokusho hadn't expected to see her sister before the ceremony and she hadn't been sure she would even recognize anyone once she got to the ritual hall because her stomach was in such knots.

" _Come on, slowpoke_ ," Astori chided her. " _We don't have all day_."

Jokusho remained quiet as her sister helped her dress, padding first, then armor. Astori filled the silence with a very one-sided conversation about her life as a married woman. The prattle didn't bother Jokusho – she enjoyed hearing her sister's tales of domesticity. Once Astori had plated her hair, she grew quiet.

" _Look…today…for the ceremony…it might help…what I mean to say is…just take this, okay_?"

Astori's sudden change in demeanor upped Jokusho's own agitation and she stared at the pill her sister dropped into her hand.

" _What's it do_?" she finally asked.

" _Numbs you_ ," Astori replied. " _You won't feel the painstiks as much – it'll keep you on your feet for longer. Look, you only need to get through the line_ …"

Both girls knew what a tall order that was for a human. They knew painstiks were deadly to most humans – and all the padding and armor in the universe wouldn't prevent injuries to Jokusho.

" _Thanks_." Jokusho grabbed a glass of water from her dresser and downed the pill quickly.

" _Hey, it's the least I can do_. _And if – when you make it through, get ready for some wild dreams tonight_." Astori choked out a grin, hoping against all hope that her sister would get to enjoy the hallucinatory aspects of the pill she'd given her.

* * *

The hall seemed so much bigger than she remembered from her siblings' Second Rites. Standing at the edge of the line, staring at the warriors that flanked the sides of the path she would walk, Jokusho felt as though the room stretched onward forever. She wondered if her siblings had felt similarly. This was a painful ceremony for even the hardiest Klingon.

The red glow of the room did nothing to ease the feelings tumbling around inside her. The warriors she would walk through stood on raised platforms above the grates she would walk on. They all stared at her, their faces hard, the painstiks in their hands even more enormous than the ones that had haunted her dreams for the past several weeks. She was glad Drel'ak wasn't there. She didn't want him to see her fail. And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she was going to fail. She only hoped the combination of the padding from her mother, the armor from her father, and the drug from Astori would help her make it at least halfway through the walk. If she could just last longer than expected – that would be something.

The drumming stopped and her father stood on a platform across the lowered walkway from her. He spoke of honour, of the importance of the Rites, of many things but Jokusho heard none of it. She waited instead for the silence that would indicate it was time for her to begin her walk.

She'd had a good life, she decided. Sure, she had yet to get laid, and she'd hoped to live long enough to go to university and study some form of engineering there. But she couldn't complain. Well, she could but she wouldn't. She would die proud and hope she'd been noble enough to end up somewhere that wasn't Gre'thor.

Jokusho realized it was silent. The time had come. She stepped forward, and called out, her voice shaky at first but growing stronger with each word.

" _Today I am a warrior_ ," she cried, taking a step forward. " _I must show you my heart. I travel the river of blood_."

With another couple of steps, she reached the first pair of warriors. They jabbed at her high on the sides of her ribcage and she faltered as the pain tore through her. Inside, she wondered what the pain would feel like if this was the dulled version. But she realized she was still conscious. She had made it through the first warriors. Her sides felt like they were on fire but she could keep going.

" _Today I am a warrior. I must show you my heart. I travel the river of blood_."

She reached the second set of warriors and they stabbed at her only slightly lower than the first set. She felt one of her legs give and caught herself before she stumbled. The pain drew tears from her eyes but she was still alive. She had made it through one more set. She was halfway through.

" _Today I am a warrior. I must show you my heart. I travel the river of blood_."

She shouted the words, surprised to be alive, convinced the next round would be the one to kill her. But she was happy she'd made it this far.

The third round drover her to her knees and she fought back a cry of pain. She stood slowly, her vision blurred. She would surely die from the last set. There was no way she would survive all of them. Inside, she said a prayer of gratitude to Astori. Whatever was in that pill was doing its job and then some. There was no way she had any right to be alive right now.

" _Today I am a warrior. I must show you my heart. I travel the river of blood_."

The last set of painstiks hurt more than the other three sets combined. Jokusho fell forward but the darkness she expected never came and she slowly pulled herself up to face her father. She looked up to where she hoped he was, her eyes still unable to focus from the pain.

" _I did it_! _I am a warrior_!"

Then the blackness began to creep in, from the edge of her vision inward. And she knew she was dying because as she sank to the floor, the last thing she saw was Drel'ak. She wondered how he managed to guide her into the afterlife but then it was all black and there was no more pain.

* * *

" _Tell me how you did it_ ," Jokusho begged Drel'ak from her bed.

" _If I tell you, I'll have no secrets left_ ," he joked, watching her wince as she reached for a glass of water. In an instant, he was at her side, holding the glass for her as she took a drink from it.

It was two days after her successful Rites and Drel'ak was happy to see his sister conscious once more. Especially since his leave was about to end and he'd have to return to the front. Kor had been more than generous to give him the three days off at all.

" _Who cares about secrets_?" Jokusho scoffed. " _Tell me what you did_."

" _You mean, it wasn't enough that I got the time off to see you_?" Drel'ak teased. " _You think I did something even more impressive_?"

Jokusho gave him a look.

" _There's no way I should have survived that ritual and you know it. Now tell me what you did_."

" _Fine_ ," Drel'ak sighed, as though he hadn't been dying to tell her his plan from the moment she'd woken up.

" _One of the guys I'm fighting with – his dad is a scientist. And the other day, after you promised me all your stuff, I reached out to him. Asked him what I could do to ensure my little sis would pass her Second Rites ceremony_."

" _And_?"

" _And he helped create a device – eight of them, actually – that I inserted into each painstik, diminishing the charge created by each one_."

" _How diminished_?"

" _Well, only half_ ," Drel'ak confessed, regretful that he hadn't been able to spare his sister from more pain. " _It had to look convincing, you know_."

" _You saved my life_ ," Jokusho replied softly. " _Don't apologize for not doing more_."

Every member of the family, besides Gradogh, had done what they could to help her pass the ceremony but Jokusho was convinced Drel'ak's efforts had gone the farthest in keeping her alive. Her fervent look of gratitude made her brother blush and he ducked his head down.

" _Ah, well, whatever. I didn't have any room for all your damn PADDs is all_."

" _Liar_ ," she replied with a smile and the two siblings took a moment to appreciate the fact that they were both alive. Both took for granted that Drel'ak was fighting in a battle where people died daily. They assumed, for better or worse, that he'd end up successful and safe at the end of his conscripted time. The bigger victory in that moment had been keeping Jokusho alive through eight painstik wounds. And now that she'd made it, she was damn proud, even if she had, perhaps technically and definitely unknowingly, cheated.

" _Wanna see my scars_?" she asked her brother.

" _Of course_!"

Both marveled over the matching scars she had on either side of her torso. They were still red and angry – over time, they would mellow and look more like the scars each of her siblings carried. And for Jokusho, that was what mattered. Sure, she hadn't suffered the full effect of the painstiks. But what she had suffered had felt as real and painful to her as what her fellow Klingons had felt. And no one outside the family, besides Drel'ak's friend's father, knew about the deception.

Later, Jokusho would take classes at the best university on Qo'noS from that same friend's father. He would become her advisor and help her find work after she left Ovic. She would be one of the best pupils he'd ever taught and one of the brightest scientific minds in a generation. For that, it had been worth the few minutes he'd spent creating devices to minimize the effects of painstiks.


	25. Chapter 25

The days were long but McCoy slogged through them for the nights. At night, Shakeba was his to explore, and he was hers. They were frighteningly compatible in bed, seeming to read one another's minds about what each wanted and was willing to do, save for one thing. Shakeba had been brought up by Klingons and Klingons had far different expectations for what happened behind closed doors. McCoy had been as diplomatic as he could, but he'd had to tell her several times she was hurting him. On their fourth night alone, after Shakeba had pleasured him, McCoy pulled her up to kiss her, wanting to hold her close before he returned the favor.

"Is it…always like this with humans?" Shakeba asked him tentatively as she pulled closer to him, taking care not to touch his back, where she'd left a series of tracks with her nails the night before that they'd yet to take the dermal regenerator to, the unspoken agreement being that they should conserve the medical instruments for when they would really be needed.

"What do you mean, darlin'?" His lips skimmed her neck.

"So soft and gentle. Is this how human sexual relations are all the time?"

McCoy pulled away to lock eyes with her. If he didn't know better, he'd think she looked almost ashamed.

"You think this is gentle?" He thought back to just moments before and how aggressively he'd held her head to him, how hard he'd thrust into her mouth.

"Is it not?"

McCoy clucked his tongue and shook his head.

"Just how rough do you like it?" he asked, doing his damnedest to keep judgment and apprehension out of his voice.

"I…like this. It's just much softer than when Klingons have sex."

"Can I ask you something?" He waited for her nod of approval. "It's true, then? The stereotypes of Klingons breaking bones and whatnot during sex? I'd always assumed that was exaggeration."

Shakeba blushed but held his gaze.

"It's true. Klingon sex can be very violent. They are a violent people and that carries over into the bedroom – some are more violent than others," she added darkly, her eyes clouded over.

"And do you like that?"

She stared at him, as if debating what to say. McCoy worried that she was about to tell him how boring she found their nighttime antics and he braced himself for the pain he knew he'd feel.

"No," she finally replied, her voice hollow. "I tried. I really did. But I never liked the idea of getting hurt during sex. I was lucky with my husband. He had….unusual proclivities for a Klingon."

It was McCoy's turn to be confused and apprehensive.

"What do you mean?" he prodded.

She gave him a look that was hard to read. McCoy sensed a certain embarrassment and desperation about her.

"Klingons aren't supposed to like soft things. But some do. Not many. But there are a few who would rather cuddle than hit. And my husband was one of them. So am I."

For a second, McCoy was tempted to remind her of just how rough she could be but he held back, seeing how agitated she was.

"Darlin', I think – for a human at least – your appetites are normal. I can't speak to Klingons but there's nothing wrong with wanting to be held – for wanting it to not hurt when you're intimate with someone else."

McCoy couldn't quite believe he was having to explain this to another human. But then he glanced down at the scars on her torso. Perhaps he did need to explain human affection to her.

"So, for you – for humans – it is not shameful to take someone to bed and awaken in the morning without bruises?" She watched him closely for his response.

"Not shameful in the least," he replied then smiled as he caught sight of a couple of purple bruises he had left on her chest – bruises from sucking her skin eagerly. "I suppose it depends on what we're calling bruises," he clarified as he brushed his fingers along the hickies he'd given her the night before.

"These hardly count," she scoffed, looking down at where he was touching her.

"Fair enough." He wasn't going to argue over bruises. He had more important things he wanted to know.

"Klingons who don't like pain during sex….are they shunned?"

She shook her head. "Most of them keep it a secret. There are places…of ill-repute where one can go if one wants soft sex. But someone like my husband? He never frequented those kinds of establishments."

McCoy had to bite back a laugh of incredulousness.

"Wait. You're tellin' me Klingons have sex dungeons where they go to cuddle?"

"Your accent is getting stronger," she pointed out. That only happened when he got upset or was pushed to some other emotional limit. As his arms were still around her, she assumed he wasn't upset.

"Answer my question – there are really places where Klingons go to hug each other?"

She nodded and McCoy couldn't hide his disbelief any longer.

"I'll be damned. Klingon cuddle dungeons." He collected himself and then eyed her shrewdly. "You ever go to one?"

She hit him and pushed him away. "How could you even ask that?"

"What? You said you liked things soft."

"I was already freak enough. Do you know what people would have done if I'd been caught visiting a place like that?" The disgust in her voice was thick.

"But it's normal to want affection!"

"Not according to Klingon culture. Every person I knew, every holo I watched – even the humans in those holos liked it when their partners broke their arms in the heat of the moment."

McCoy stopped short.

"You let porn holos be your guide? You do know those people were acting, right? Surely you could see a difference between Klingon porn and human porn."

"I never watched human porn," she sniffed.

"Really?" He didn't mean to sound so surprised. It just seemed natural that if she would watch Klingon porn and Klingon-human porn, that she'd want to see how just humans would do things.

"Why would I watch that? I was the only human on my planet. What good would it be to watch humans have sex with one another?"

McCoy supposed she had a point.

"Darlin', there's nothing wrong with you. If you want to have sex without broken bones or bloodshed, that makes you fairly normal by human standards. On the other hand, if you like things a little rough, that's fine too. You don't have to be ashamed around me for your sexual preferences."

She studied his face for a beat before finally smiling and leaning in towards him.

"I like how things feel with you."

"Me too," he replied before kissing her deeply.

He ran his hands along her lower back, feeling the same raised lumps he had felt the past several nights. On this particular night, he kept his hands on the scars, rubbing them softly while his lips sought Shakeba's. After several passionate kisses, McCoy trailed his mouth down her neck to her shoulder then moved so he was behind her. He gently pushed her down onto the mattress, on her stomach and she acquiesced as he continued to press kisses along her upper back. The lower he moved, the more tense she grew. But he stopped at her waist, moving first to the scars on her left side and then the scars on her right. He kissed each one of them, running his fingers across them after, making no move to go lower, at which point Shakeba relaxed.

"Are these marks from previous lovers?" McCoy asked, trying to be as open-minded as possible.

"No." She propped herself up on her elbows and looked over her shoulder at him, an inscrutable smile on her lips.

McCoy knew she was amused by his question but he pushed on. "Are they from raids?" He remembered how insistent she'd been on the importance of scars from battle. It felt like a lifetime ago that they'd been enemies in a standoff.

"They are from my Second Rite of Ascension."

"What's that?" he asked with curiosity, no trace of judgment or disdain.

She rolled over so she was facing him and McCoy moved so they could look in one another's eyes.

"When a Klingon is old enough – somewhere between 10 and 13, they go through a Rite of Ascension ritual. The first ritual involves lighting a candle and pledging oneself to the way of Kahless. Fighting skills are tested but it is an overall easy ceremony."

McCoy snorted. "Is it considered easy because it doesn't leave lasting scars?" He gave her a smirk, hoping she wouldn't take his remark as a criticism of her former culture.

"Maybe," she replied with her own brief grin before her features grew serious. "After a Klingon goes through their First Rite of Ascension, they have ten years to complete the Second Rite. Most do the second ritual within a couple of years of the first. It is a hard ceremony but necessary for Klingon passage into adulthood."

"You did it?" McCoy asked with more than just a note of incredulousness in his voice, sitting up and looking down at her.

"Of course." She sat up so they were once again looking at one another eye to eye. "I was a member of the highest House on Boreth – it was expected that every member of the House would undergo the Rites, and each of us did."

"What caused the scarring?"

"Painstiks." At that, McCoy's eyes snapped up to hers in shock. They held one another's gaze in silence for a beat before he looked away, unsure of how to ask her more without sounding judgmental.

McCoy reached to her left side and brushed his fingers against the scars that ran up it. Each side of her torso had four matching scars. Individual scars were about 10 centimeters wide and 3 centimeters from top to bottom. Some wrapped around to her front but most wrapped around to her back. One set was positioned where her kidneys rested and he didn't want to imagine the pain she'd felt when the stiks had poked her there.

"And these were the results of the painstiks?" he finally asked, doing his damnedest to keep his voice neutral.

"Yes." Her answer was faint.

"How did you survive it? Klingons have thicker skin – are larger and more able to withstand weapons like painstiks." McCoy had seen what Klingon painstiks could do to a human only once…an ensign he'd been unable to save.

She took a deep breath. McCoy recognized this tic – it was the one she used when her emotions threatened to overcome her.

"I survived," she finally answered. "That's all that matters."

For another beat, neither of them said anything, McCoy's hands still on the lowest set of scars. They looked at one another, both unable to sort out the emotions playing out on each other's faces. Finally, Shakeba leaned close to McCoy, giving him a certain look that he'd decided could only be described as 'bedroom eyes.'

"Wouldn't you rather do something better than talk about Klingon rituals?"

"Whadya have in mind, darlin'?"

She answered with a kiss as she pulled him close. McCoy didn't need any further motivation to leave the conversation behind.

* * *

The next night, McCoy ran his hands down Shakeba's naked back, not stopping till his hands were on her buttocks. He grabbed her butt cheeks, pulling her closer to him but he didn't miss the way she froze for a moment before settling against his body.

"What's that about?" he murmured into her hair.

"What?"

"You freeze up sometimes. Usually when my hands drift down to here."

He let his hands wander over her ass to illustrate. Shakeba drew away to make eye contact with him and McCoy could see the angst swirling in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"Remember when I mentioned the man I was briefly given to? In order to strengthen the alliance between our Houses?"

McCoy nodded as he brushed an errant strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"What about him?"

"He was…he handled me roughly…in bed…despite my wishes. Caused me quite a bit of harm, it turns out. I… still get nervous when someone touches me there."

"Darlin," McCoy replied, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her tight to him. "I would never –"

"I know," she replied, her voice muffled because she had pressed her face into his chest. "I know you'd never be that way. The freezing - it's a nervous tic I can't help. If I'd been really concerned, I would have said something to you before now."

McCoy held her close, his head resting on hers. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about anal sex – it was one more way to be with her that wouldn't lead to pregnancy. But he now saw he'd been wise to hold off on asking if she'd be interested.

She lifted her head, causing him to shift his own. Their eyes locked and she cupped his cheeks in her hands, raising herself up so she could kiss him. It was a deep and heated kiss – the kind that left them both breathless when it ended. The kind that made McCoy's body flare to attention and ache for more – another touch, another lick. Shakeba excelled at this kind of kiss. She kissed like she'd never been kissed before – like kisses were the food she needed to stay alive – like if their lips didn't come together, if their mouths didn't open to one another, and if their tongues didn't tangle, she might die.

"Goddammit, Keebs," he moaned as she pushed him back down on the nest of couch pillows and blankets they'd decided to call their bed for the evening, having not found a single mattress in the home they'd politely invaded for the night. She straddled him, always careful to avoid his hard cock, avoiding the one act they couldn't do till they got back to the ship. They'd enjoyed fooling around, finding other ways to bring each other to climax (At least, McCoy assumed that her enthusiasm and assertiveness was genuine. If the woman next to him wasn't enjoying herself every night then she was a hell of an actress). McCoy would bet the farm that Shakeba was as hungry for penetrative sex as he was. If he could've formed coherent thoughts. With her on top of him, leaning down to sear his mouth with another earthquake of a kiss, he was only able to reach mindlessly for her breasts, stroking them, tweaking them as she staked her claim on him just as she'd been doing since their first night alone.

McCoy almost came undone as he coaxed a sweet whine from Shakeba – his ministrations to her breasts causing her to shiver and spasm against him. As she broke off the kiss to trail her mouth down his neck, her fingers wound their way through his hair, fisting handfuls in each palm.

"My God, darlin', I'll give you anything you want in bed," he whispered, unable to keep from thrusting up even though she was too high on his chest for his erection to find purchase. "But I'll never force it on ya."

"I know," she purred and the sound of her voice, the feel of her breath against his ear – it was all pure lust and desire. "I want you so much," she continued, licking against his earlobe. "I would let you have every part of me if I could."

McCoy felt as though she'd dumped a gallon of ice cold water over his head. It was then that he realized just how much she'd been hurt by the callous man she'd been promised to for the sake of diplomatic relations between Houses. Shakeba couldn't let him have her in that way. It wasn't just fear that made her freeze up. She froze because she'd been so physically scarred by whatever that asshole had done to her, she couldn't entertain the idea of pleasure from certain acts even if she wanted it. McCoy had never gone from turned on to hollowed out so quickly in his life and he stopped her as her hands roved his body, grabbed up her palms in his own, intertwining their fingers, and making her stop trailing kisses down his chest to look up into his heated gaze.

The want in her eyes, the way she was riding him, her smell and taste – McCoy couldn't think of a time he had been more torn between desire and revulsion – repulsed not by her but by what had been done to her.

"We can fix it," he said in a low voice and her puzzled look didn't faze him. "When we get back to the ship – whatever was done to you – we can fix it."

"You can?" she replied and the hope in her voice was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

"Yeah, we can. We've got the resources there to take care of you." He knew, from their previous conversations, that medical care for a human hadn't always been what it could have on Boreth. They'd done the best they could but there were limits. And McCoy offered her the only thing he could think to offer – limitless care that would leave her, physically, with no signs of the harm that had been done. If he had his way, he'd also offer her the time and attention to help heal the mental scars too.

The look of gratitude she gave him was all he needed to seek her lips again, to kiss her as deeply as he could, allowing himself to fall back into a feverish haze that could only be sated when his arousal was. But he wouldn't allow her to attend to his arousal until he'd driven her to screams, her hands clenched tightly around pillows and blankets, her back arching as she pressed herself to his mouth, letting him lick and suck and prod her most intimate spaces repeatedly as she jerked against him, powerless to resist, not wanting to resist because it was him and as much as they'd fought every moment of the day and into the early evening, they knew that these moments of passion and sweat and softly-uttered or loudly-screamed curses were the true measure of their feelings for one another.

When he was done, he flopped down on their improvised bed only for her to claim him in another whirlwind of a kiss, licking and nibbling his bottom lip, even fuller than normal from their non-stop sexual play. She seemed to delight in teasing that bottom lip of his, of sucking on it, nipping it, making him moan from the pleasure and the pain of it all. She wouldn't stop till he was grinding up against her mouth, his hands tangled in her hair, his balls tight as she sucked and stroked until he could take no more, emptying himself into her mouth, down her throat, all while she made soft noises that drove him insane with want. He wanted to never stop as long as he could hear those mewls and moans and grunts and sighs of satisfaction. When she finally pulled away from his softening cock, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and grinned, the contented smile of a cat who got exactly the bird it wanted. Her eyes were nothing but pupil as she fell back against him, gasping still for air but he didn't care about her need to breathe – not as much as he cared about feeling her mouth against his one last time, her tongue salty with his own release. The kiss transitioned from wild and frantic to a series of soft, sweet kisses – none quite chaste, but certainly enough to communicate to Shakeba that he was sated and happy with the night's events.

McCoy knew it would be a matter of minutes, an hour at the most, before they began the nightly fight for a comfortable position, enough blanket, and no limbs to the head but before then, he wrapped himself around her, and she gripped him just as tightly in return, snaking her legs between his, while he savored the moments between pure bliss and chaotic hell. And as awful as it was to sleep together – because it was truly abysmal and showed no signs of getting better the more they slept together – McCoy couldn't imagine leaving to find a more comfortable bed alone. He understood they were in this together, snores, midnight chatter, and bruised bodies alike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. I apologize that I haven't been keeping to my regular schedule of posting these last few weeks. It's been a bit of a bad couple of months for me. We had to put a beloved family pet to sleep, work has been the most massive of dumpster fires, and I've just been in a general malaise over it all. I promise, I'll get back to regular posting now. Thanks for being patient with me. LLAP!


	26. Chapter 26

Five years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

Gradogh had made a huge mistake. Or, rather, he'd made a number of small mistakes that had snowballed into a very dire situation.

" _Wait, lemme get this straight_ ," Ovic said as the two of them nursed a couple of Romulan ales at one of the seedier bars in town. " _You promised the Ferengis you could get them ten crates of disruptors_?"

" _Yeah_ ," Gradogh answered miserably. " _I thought I'd have more time to gather weapons_..."

" _Gather weapons_? _That's a funny way of saying 'steal from my dad's patron_.'"

Gradogh slit his eyes. " _Try not to tell the whole place, will ya_?"

" _My bad_ ," Ovic said, sounding remarkably unapologetic. " _So how many crates have you managed to skim off of your old man and Kor_?"

" _Only five_ ," Gradogh replied glumly.

" _You know, I might be able to help_ ," Ovic said quietly, leaning towards his friend. " _Of course, it'll cost you_."

" _Talons and darseks aren't an issue_ ," Gradogh assured him, perking up for the first time that evening. " _I have enough of either to pay_."

It was all Ovic could do to keep from punching his 'friend.' Of course Gradogh had the money. He was the eldest born of the highest House on Boreth.

" _I'm not interested in your money_ ," Ovic sniffed. It was a partial lie. Ovic wanted Gradogh's wealth – or at least his family's wealth. But he was already getting money from House Morc. He wanted something else more than money. " _You know what I want_."

" _I can't just hand Jokusho over to you_ ," Gradogh whined. " _She's married_!"

" _And her husband is heading into the fight against the Romulans at Deep Space 15 with you. He doesn't have to come back, you know_."

" _You want me to kill Tsix_? _I can't do that_."

" _Well, good luck explaining to your dad and Kor why those missing disruptors are in a warehouse rented out under your name_."

" _Fine, fine_ ," Gradogh sighed. " _I'll do it_."

" _I knew I could count on you_ ," Ovic said with a smile.

" _Where are you gonna get the rest of the arms from_?" Gradogh asked.

" _Don't worry about that. First we take care of Tsix. Then I get you your disruptors. And maybe we split whatever profit you're making from the Ferengis, huh_?"

Gradogh nodded silently, unwilling to tell his friend he needed that money to pay off some gambling debts he'd incurred. He would have to find another way to pay off all his debts.

In the end, Gradogh had only punctured one of Tsix's lungs. It was Ovic who came in and finished Tsix off, a cruel smirk on his face as he watched the light leave the other man's eyes.

The deal with the Ferengis was completed and Gradogh finally felt like he could breathe again when he received word that his father and Kor wanted to meet with him. He walked into his father's study, expecting the two men to heap accolades on him for his impressive performance in the Deep Space 15 battle or perhaps to offer him a larger role in the House business. Instead, they reamed him out for stealing weapons. He left his father's house humiliated and disgraced. But at the next family dinner, he was as condescending to his siblings, especially Jokusho, as he'd ever been – maybe even worse. The more Hus yelled at him in private, the more arrogant he appeared in front of the group. Gradogh would never let on that his position of eldest son was hanging by a thread. He would never admit his awareness that Drel'ak was being groomed to take his place.

What Gradogh never figured out was that Ovic was the one feeding his father and Kor information. He didn't share all the details but he always gave them enough proof to verify that the tips were accurate. Gradogh never realized until it was too late that his best friend was the one exposing his mistakes over and over again.

* * *

" _The money isn't enough_." Ovic gave Hus a lazy smile, his feet propped up on the other man's desk.

Hus knocked them off the surface as he made his way to the other side of the desk across from the insolent asshole. Hus had suffered at Ovic's hands, though it certainly wasn't all Ovic's fault. It was Hus who chose to hide his son's sins from the rest of the family. He was the one who watched Gradogh waltz into the family home and treat everyone like inferiors. And now he was entertaining this sniveling fool in his study because Ovic was threatening to tell the rest of the community what he'd been doing unless Hus gave him what he wanted.

" _Just what else do you want besides the handsome reimbursements you've already received_?" he growled at Ovic, standing instead of sitting so that he towered over the desk and the other man.

" _I want Jokusho. As my parmaqqay_ ," Ovic replied nonchalantly, as though they were discussing dinner rather than another being.

" _She's barely left the grieving period,"_ Hus countered.

" _But she has left it. It's been over a year. She's eligible once more_."

" _She will not agree to this_."

" _I wasn't aware she had a choice_ ," Ovic snapped. " _My family has grown in stature. We could make a move for your position as head House on Boreth_."

Hus stared at Ovic. He knew he was out of his league. In all the time he'd served as head of the highest House on Boreth, no one had ever seriously challenged his authority. He could fight enemies all day on the battlefield but Hus was not accustomed to fighting enemies within his friends and beneficiaries. As shrewd as he could be, Hus's weakness was the fact that he trusted too much in his beneficiaries – believed that they knew he had their best interests at heart. He wasn't cut out for this kind of cold calculation.

" _You wouldn't dare_."

" _Not if you give me what I want_."

" _This isn't how parmaqqays are arranged here_."

" _I know. All you have to do is initiate talks with my parents. I'll take care of everything else_."

Hus relaxed a bit. Ovic was as foolish as Gradogh. If he did initiate conversations with Ovic's parents, there was nothing that would prevent Drel'ak from being the chosen partner. And Hus knew his younger son would step in for Jokusho in a heartbeat. He could do this. And Ovic wouldn't be able to blame him if things didn't work out exactly as he wanted.

" _Alright_ ," he finally agreed. " _I'll speak with your father_."

Ovic gave him the smile of a wolf. " _I can't wait to get your daughter in my bed_."

It took all Hus had not to kill him then and there. Perhaps he should have risked the other House's ire and stabbed Ovic repeatedly till the life drained out of him, just as he had wanted to for years.

It was hard for Hus to hide the resentment he felt towards Gradogh for repeatedly putting him in this position. The closest he came to turning Gradogh out altogether from his graces was after Jokusho came home from Ovic's and refused to return, mere weeks after they'd held the parmaqqay ceremony. Hus had threatened Gradogh, had laid hands on his oldest son, willing to beat him till his heart no longer hurt at the thought of his daughter lying prostate on the floor of his study. But all he had done was incite a deeper hatred of Jokusho within Gradogh. Gradogh realized that night how precarious his position within the family truly was and rather than take a deep look at himself, he lashed out at Jokusho. It was her fault his father wanted him dead. His arrogance at family functions grew worse, as he threatened to throw Jokusho out when he gained control of the House. Ovic fed the flames, ready to pounce when the time came.


	27. Chapter 27

"Bones, can you hear me?" Jim shouted into his communicator, frustrated with the reception, or lack thereof, of the device.

"I hear ya. Christ, the whole neighborhood can hear ya."

"Which is what? The two of us? Not much of a neighborhood."

Jim frowned at the sound of the female voice.

"I didn't ask your opinion, did I? This is a private comm," McCoy growled back at Shakeba. Jim raised his eyebrows in alarm. Sure, to anyone else, Bones sounded as surly as ever, but Jim knew that tone in his friend's voice. Bones was flirting.

"Then why do you have it on an open channel?" Crap. She was flirting back. What the hell had happened? Jim had complained for years that all McCoy needed was a good lay. But he hadn't anticipated said lay coming in the form of an enemy to Starfleet.

"She makes a good point," Jim interjected, loathe as he was to agree with anything the Klingon sympathizer had to say. "Put me on a closed channel."

"Hold your horses. I'm a doctor, not a technical wizard," came the grumbled response.

"And you're not much of a doctor at that," deadpanned the woman in the background. Son of a bitch. Jim was pretty sure he'd like her if it weren't for the fact she killed several of his men, tried to escape, and had hid important information from them.

"Careful, sweetheart. I know enough to kill you and make it look like an accident," McCoy shot back as he pressed the button on his communicator to switch it so that only he could hear Jim.

"Alright, I got it. What's goin' on, Jim? Did Scotty and Uhura make it back to you?"

Jim smiled, in spite of himself. Only McCoy could get away with turning a conversation with his captain into an inquisition with himself as the questioner.

"Scotty and Uhura are here. Scotty's almost done re-routing the comm links so we can have uninterrupted use temporarily. How close are you guys to the Klingon camp? And why in the hell did you agree to a plan like that? I thought we both agreed – I make stupid plans and you remain safe, ready to revive me when my plans go wrong. Can't say I love being on this end of a risky operation."

"Serves ya right," McCoy snapped. "And if you have a better plan, I'd love to hear it. We're two days away from the Klingons but I'm in no hurry to get there."

Jim heard a muffled reply from the woman with McCoy and then McCoy covered the mouthpiece of his communicator to answer her. Jim couldn't hear what he said but a moment later, McCoy yelped in pain.

"I swear to fuckin' God, you hit me with another thing and I'm gonna tan your hide," the doctor snarled.

"You two done?" Jim asked, not bothering to keep the petulant whine from his voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?" McCoy asked him.

"It means, enough already. Get a room. Also, she's the enemy. I feel like I shouldn't have to remind you of that."

"A room? Everyone's a comedian now, huh? Look, spending all my time with a woman raised by Klingons is hardly my idea of fun, you hear? Tell your engineer and communications lieutenant that they both owe me a round of drinks if I survive this."

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," Jim replied dryly.

"Did you just call me a lady to boot?" McCoy launched into an invective-filled rant and Jim let him get it out of his system. When the doctor had wrapped it up, Jim spoke once more.

"Feel better?"

"A little. This isn't a picnic, Jim. I haven't had a good night's sleep in weeks. And facing Klingons was never on my list of things to do before I died."

"I'm sorry, Bones. Really, I am. If I'd been there, I never would have let you end up on the attack team…" Jim hesitated, knowing he needed to tread carefully with his next question.

"Is she within earshot of us still?" he asked McCoy.

"Nah. She's gone out to find breakfast. This damn place had no bed and no food."

Jim didn't ask for clarification – he had much bigger concerns on his mind.

"Bones, I need to know. What the hell is going on with you two? I heard you guys flirting. Tell me you're not seriously falling for her. You don't actually trust her, do you?"

The line was silent for a beat and Jim began to worry McCoy was whipping himself into another frenzy of rage.

"Look, Jim. She's been through a lot and she's started remembering it. Her loyalty isn't with the Klingons anymore. And don't worry. There's banter – but I know what I should and shouldn't do with a potential prisoner."

Jim breathed a giant sigh of relief.

"Shoulda known you'd be too smart to let a pretty face sway you," he said.

"Yeah, yeah," McCoy brushed him off. "I gotta get goin'."

"Good luck. I'll keep a line open but won't contact you again. If everything goes according to plan, you'll comm me to get beamed up after the drill is destroyed."

"Yeah, sure," McCoy said dubiously.

"I'm serious, Bones. See you soon – that's an order."

"Okay, okay," his friend grumbled before ending the comm.

* * *

McCoy flipped the communicator closed and sat in silence for a moment. Being on the other side of a lecture about chasing skirts wasn't comfortable to him. Especially because McCoy knew he probably shouldn't be messing with Shakeba in her current state. She needed counseling, possibly medications, some good conversations with someone who didn't insult her one minute, then shove her up against a wall and kiss her furiously the next. As a doctor, he knew his behavior was unacceptable. But as a man, he was doing his best to work up enough guilt to feel bad…and he was failing miserably. Shakeba liked him – McCoy couldn't remember the last time a woman had whispered the kinds of things Shakeba breathed into his ear every night. Yes, she was in a fragile state, but she wasn't a porcelain vase. He scanned her daily and her brain was doing just fine. The rest of her was doing more than fine in bed with him when the sun went down.

McCoy shook his head to clear his thoughts. Had he been hanging around Jim too long? Had some lothario rubbed off on him? He shuddered.

"You done with your top-secret communiqué with your captain?" Shakeba asked from the other room. "We have a lot of ground to cover if we want to get to the camp in two days."

"Yeah, nothing like rushing to our deaths," McCoy muttered.

"There's the optimism you bring to every moment of the day."

McCoy rolled his eyes as Shakeba breezed into his room and handed him something warm wrapped in a napkin.

"Eat up," she said, nodding to the item she'd left in his hand. "I'm not sure what will turn up for lunch."

"That's comforting," McCoy grumbled as he sniffed at the napkin. Whatever she'd made, it smelled wonderful. McCoy's mouth watered. They might be walking to their deaths, but damn if she didn't know how to make a mean…. whatever the thing in the napkin was.

Shakeba came back into the room, her survival pack on her back.

"You ready?" she asked with mild exasperation in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Keep your pants on." McCoy grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder while shoveling the delicious, unidentifiable breakfast in his mouth.

McCoy watched as Shakeba did that thing she was doing more and more around him during the daytime – the thing where she bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from smiling.

As they made their way to the trail they'd been following for the last few days, Shakeba called back to McCoy.

"So… is it normal for Starfleet CMOs to be so friendly with their captains?"

McCoy snorted.

"Not much is normal about the Enterprise… though I suppose senior officers to get close to one another even on shorter missions."

"The Enterprise is the first Federation ship to do a five-year mission, yes?"

"Yeah. Lucky us." McCoy grimaced as Shakeba turned back to look at him. She shook her head.

"Some people would kill for a mission like yours."

"Coming from you, that doesn't mean much. Klingons kill for fun and sport, right? Feel like that skews your perspective."

Shakeba grunted in reply and was silent for a minute before resuming the original conversation.

"You've become close to your captain over the past few years of your mission then? As close as you get to anyone, that is."

McCoy made a noise of disagreement.

"I get along just great with people who don't try to kill me the first time we meet, who don't talk and flail in their sleep, who don't throw every damn thing they can at me…"

He trailed off as Shakeba turned around once more with a rock in her hand. She tossed it up and caught it while raising an eyebrow at him.

"What were you saying?"

"I have plenty of friends!"

"Yes, you're really quite affable," she said with just a trace of irony before turning around to continue their hike.

"Not like you're winnin' any popularity contests either, sweetheart."

"What was that?" she called out.

"Jim's probably my best friend. Met him as we entered the Academy and we've been well-nigh inseparable since," McCoy answered hastily.

Shakeba turned back to him and he could tell she was parsing out his words, trying to understand exactly what he'd told her.

"Then it isn't normal for CMOs and captains to be so friendly?"

"I suppose not, darlin'."

"Is it hard – being on the ship with him, going out on missions – do you worry about one another?"

McCoy thought about it for a moment.

"Not my favorite thing – waiting for Jim Kirk to get himself maimed or killed. But he's as good a friend as I'll ever have – and the entire crew knows he won't ask them to do anything he wouldn't do. He'd lay his life down for any one of us."

McCoy decided not to tell her Jim had already laid his life down once. Talking about the Khan incident was pretty low on his list of enjoyable activities. He shuddered just thinking about those weeks they had waited to see if Jim would pull through.

"Is that what makes him such a revered captain amongst all the other Starfleet leadership? His willingness to sacrifice himself for his crew?"

"Not sure about all that. Jim's just a born leader and that attracts good company. I take it Klingons would frown on friendships among officers?"

"We're not so different. There are friendships in the ranks in any military."

"Starfleet isn't military!" McCoy complained. Shakeba rolled her eyes.

"Oh, this again," she sighed before they launched into another argument about whether Starfleet was really so different from other armed forces roving the galaxy.

* * *

McCoy couldn't pinpoint when exactly the mood between he and Keebs had shifted. After lunch? She'd seemed happy enough when they set out that morning. But it was late afternoon and she was growing increasingly skittish.

"Hey, stop a minute," McCoy finally demanded. Shakeba reluctantly stopped moving and finally turned to face him.

"What?" she asked, irritated. "We have a ways to go before we get to Winz for the night."

"Yeah, I know. But what the hell is wrong with you?" He paused, contemplating the possible reasons she would be so agitated. "Are we being tracked? Did the Klingons find us already?"

"No! Don't you think I'd tell you if we were being tracked?"

"I'd sure as hell hope so."

"Look, I'm tired. It's hot, lunch was leaves, and I want to get to our nighttime location and take a shower, okay?"

McCoy stared at Shakeba and she held his gaze, her eyes unwavering.

"Okay, okay." Who was he to question her moods? Wasn't like he was a bastion of good humor or anything. Still, he'd never heard her complain about the heat before. And she did seem uneasy. He shook his head as she turned back around and studied her PADD to get her bearings.

The rest of their trek was mostly silent and when they found the village of Winz, they sought out a house with working power for the highly-anticipated showers. Once they'd eaten and cleaned up, McCoy wondered if he should make a move on Keebs. But she saved him the trouble.

"Hey," she whispered as she sank onto his lap and wrapped her arms and legs around him.

"Hey yourself," he whispered back as she skimmed her mouth up his neck.

"Would it be awful if we didn't share a bed tonight?" she asked after breaking off a deep kiss and looking intently into his eyes.

"Awful would probably be the opposite of having a bed to myself, with no kicking and muttering. But what's this all about?"

"I'm just really tired," Shakeba admitted. "Also… it's hard to spend the night with you… and not push the boundaries, you know?" She looked down as a blush spread across her cheeks.

McCoy understood. He shifted slightly beneath her to keep her from feeling just how hard it was for him to behave around her. Still, the idea of sleeping in separate rooms…well, maybe it was for the best. They needed to be ready for when they reached the Klingon camp.

"Okay, darlin'," he agreed finally, running his hands up her back before releasing her. "I get it. We both need to get some good rest."

She smiled at him, a smile that lit the whole room. "Thank you," she murmured before initiating another deep kiss that both were reluctant to end. But they did, finally, and Shakeba pulled away from McCoy slowly.

"See you in the morning?"

"Sure. Sweet dreams, beautiful."

"You too, Doctor."

McCoy fell into a deep sleep shortly thereafter – the first good sleep he'd had since they'd beamed down to Celos-D42. Had he paid attention when he woke up in the middle of the night and walked to the bathroom, he might have noticed the light on in Shakeba's room. But he was tired and didn't see it. And when they reunited in the morning, she seemed so well-rested that McCoy assumed her request for a separate room had served its purpose – they'd both gotten much-needed sleep.

* * *

Another long day of walking, and though Shakeba appeared less agitated than the day before, McCoy still felt concerned. She had been tapping a lot of notes on her PADD – none of which he could read because the whole damn thing was in Klingon. He had no choice but to believe her when she told him she was taking notes on their surroundings to help them when they escaped – ideally, they'd be beamed up within minutes of escaping the Klingon camp, but on the "off-chance" things didn't go as planned, she explained to him that they'd need to know where to run and hide until they could get beamed back to the capital city.

It all made sense but something bothered McCoy. Keebs seemed off in a way that McCoy couldn't quite place. Granted, they'd only known each other for a couple of weeks, but McCoy felt like they'd grown close enough, over the past week especially, for him to know she was ill at ease over something. But his every attempt to pry information from her was shut down, not that he had ever been very good at prying information out of attractive women – or any women, for that matter.

He was glad when they set up camp for the last night in another deserted town. Like villages from the last couple of nights, it was clear they were not the first visitors to the abandoned city and it took them a while till they found a home with power, beds, and other supplies.

"For better or worse, I'm pretty sure Klingons have almost picked this place clean," Shakeba said quietly, flitting from window to window as she drew all the blinds.

"You think any of them are still out here?" McCoy asked, trying to keep worry from his voice.

"Could be," she reluctantly admitted. "They'd be deserters and finding us would give them an excuse to return to the camp without facing death."

The two looked at one another for a beat.

"Probably a good idea to move the bed into there," Shakeba gestured to the one room in the house that had no windows.

"No separate beds tonight?" McCoy decided not to dwell on how hopeful the question sounded.

"Best to stay together…and armed," Shakeba replied.

"Don't let anyone tell you you're not a romantic," McCoy grumbled, as he helped her move the mattress from one room to another. She gave him a look as they dropped the mattress on the floor of the windowless room.

"I'm a sweaty mess," she said with a smile as she drew closer to him. "Think I'll take a shower – care to join me?"

McCoy didn't answer her vocally, but instead followed her to the bathroom, as the two helped remove one another's clothing.

"How safe is it for us to be foolin' around while possibly surrounded by Klingon deserters?" he mumbled into her mouth as he pushed her gently against the shower door.

"And you accuse me of ruining the mood," she murmured back, her lips against his earlobe, a sigh catching in her throat as he sucked on the spot at the base of her neck.

Under the sonic waves, McCoy remembered why showers were a horrible place to be intimate. Someone – namely him – was always left half in the stream of water or sonic waves, and half out of it, shivering. But there was a chance this would be their last night alive so better to focus on the woman in the stall with him instead of any discomfort. As she sank to her knees in front of him, McCoy groaned in anticipation of what she was going to do to him.

Shakeba didn't disappoint. She took him deep in her mouth, wrapping her hands around him, working a finger, then a second, into his hole as he moaned in appreciation. Slowly, her other hand moved down his perineum to his balls, cupping them as she continued her oral ministrations. McCoy would never get tired of this. As much as he couldn't wait to fuck her, he loved the way her mouth felt, the way she paid attention to all of him, not just his cock. She took him deeper and deeper and it wasn't long before he came, unable to keep from crying out.

Later, on the mattress together, Keebs kissed him deeply, and he pulled her to him, wanting to feel every inch of her skin against his own.

"Leonard," she whispered breathlessly as she arched her back to press herself against him, "I want to feel you inside me. Please!"

"Oh, Keebs," he half-moaned in return. "You know I want it too. But we can't. Not yet. We survive tomorrow and get back to the ship? I promise, I won't let you go for a week. You'll be sick of sex when I'm done with you."

"Impossible," she breathed, moaning as he palmed her breast, his thumb making lazy circles around her hardening nipple.

"Gonna hold you to that," he murmured before taking the nipple in his mouth and sucking on it.

"Please, Leonard. I don't want to wait another second. Please!"

McCoy reluctantly pulled his mouth away from her nipple and stroked her cheek, looking into her unfaltering gaze.

"Oh love, I know. Trust me, it's as difficult for me to resist as it is for you. Just one more night, beautiful. One more night and I'll fuck you till you can't remember your name."

"Please! Don't make me wait another moment."

McCoy didn't mind her insistent requests. Hell, it was a turn-on, hearing someone so beautiful, someone he was certain would be unattainable if they had met in any other circumstances, begging him to make love to her. His annoyance over the fact that he hadn't given himself a contraceptive hypo before the trip was doubled with every plea she made to him. Of all the times to decide to take a chance on an away trip being something other than a complete and utter shitshow. And now, here was this woman, this incredibly enticing woman, demanding sex from him and all he could do was grit his teeth and find another way to please her. Clearly, McCoy had not done enough to right whatever wrongs he had committed against this universe.

"Leonard, fuck me, now!"

There was an urgency to her requests that McCoy hadn't heard before – an intensity in her eyes he hadn't yet seen. And hearing her beg him – hearing her use such coarse language – God, it made the animal part of his brain light up. He couldn't wait to get her alone in his cabin on the Enterprise. The things he would do to her. The things he'd let her do to him… But not now. Not yet. No matter how much she begged. Even if it killed him. And he was pretty sure it just might. To think just a week ago, she'd been unsure of what to say in bed…

"I want to feel you deep inside me, want you, hard, need it…"

Instead of answering her verbally, McCoy allowed his fingers to do the talking, drawing moan after moan from Shakeba as she rocked against him. With his thumb rubbing her clitoris and his fingers thrusting deep inside her, he brought her to climax repeatedly, intent on making her come enough times to exhaust her.

"Leonard, Leonard!"

"Yes, please! Don't stop!"

"Ghay'cha'! Hu'tegh!"

She writhed against him and as she came again, McCoy imagined how it would feel to be inside her, to come just after her, or maybe even at the same time. God, he wanted her. Had never wanted a woman like this. He felt her relax beneath him, collapse back into the mattress as her orgasm ended.

He sought her lips with his own immediately and she opened her mouth to him as she draped her arms around him, her nails lightly raking against his back.

"Darlin'," he sighed between kisses.

"I'm sorry I asked you to –"

"Shhh," he admonished her. "It's fine. Don't spend a second on it." He kissed her, a deep, wet kiss, to emphasize how much he didn't care that she'd been reckless earlier. She pulled away from him and placed a hand on his chest to keep him from pulling her back into a warm embrace.

"No, but I shouldn't have been like that," she insisted, sitting up and imploring him with her eyes to forgive her.

"Darlin', I told you – I'm not upset. Hell, it's flattering to think you want me that much."

Shakeba stared at him, growing more confused as she realized from the way he looked at her, from how calm he was, that he meant what he was saying. He didn't bear her ill will for losing control.

"What?" McCoy asked her. "You're lookin' at me like I'm speakin' a language you don't understand."

Shakeba sighed and fell back against the mattress and pillows.

"In Klingon society, it's the woman's job to ensure that things don't go too far in bedroom. I shirked my duties with you and you seem to think nothing of it. I suppose this is one more way humans and Klingons differ."

McCoy took a moment before responding, not wanting to anger Shakeba by telling her exactly what he thought of the patriarchal ways of Klingon society.

"I can't speak for everyone," he finally said, keeping his voice as neutral as he could, "but as far as I'm concerned, it's not just your job to make sure we behave if we're foolin' around. Both of us have a responsibility to make sure things don't go too far and if one of us forgets for a moment, that's okay. The other one can step up."

"I still shouldn't have been so careless," she countered and McCoy shrugged as he traced the curve of her jaw with the tips of his fingers.

"Maybe," he agreed. "But these are unique circumstances we find ourselves in. Stop beating yourself up over it."

"You surprise me sometimes," Shakeba replied, grabbing his hand from her cheek and bringing it to her lips.

He allowed her to softly kiss the pads of his fingers before he wrapped his arms around her once more and kissed her, a deep, slow kiss that grew more heated the longer it lasted – the kind of kiss that communicates more than any words could. But despite how much they were sharing with every touch, McCoy wanted to tell Shakeba verbally just how much he felt for her.

"I…"

He couldn't bring himself to finish. The fact that they were kissing, tongues tangling, gave him every excuse to trail off. But inside, it bothered him that he felt hesitation in telling her how much he cared about her. He wanted her to know how much she meant to him. But the words were stuck in his throat as her tongue invaded his mouth.

* * *

As they drifted to sleep, still comfortable lying against each other, Shakeba pulled her head up.

"I need you to know…," she started, her wide eyes boring into his own.

"What is it?" McCoy asked drowsily. He'd been so close to sleep.

"This thing between us," she insisted, her hands coming to both sides of his face. "Whatever happens tomorrow, you have to know this meant something to me. I'm serious!"

Initially, he was confused. Why would she worry that he'd question the sincerity of her feelings? But then it hit him. She was as worried as he was that one or both of them wasn't going to make it out of tomorrow alive. And as disquieting as it was to realize she was as nervous as he was about their odds of success, especially given that the mission pretty much hung on her ability to get to the drill and disable it, he knew she needed him to comfort her. Now wasn't the time to freak out or ask her why she was feeling antsy. Everyone felt nervous before a big mission and everyone had different ways of coping with it. Hell, if her way was wanting to reassure him of her affection – well, there were certainly worse coping mechanisms out there.

"Of course, darlin'," he responded, wanting nothing more than to comfort her. He pressed a soft kiss against her forehead.

"I…," she trailed off and he wondered, briefly, if she was facing the same conundrum he was in terms of sharing feelings.

"Thank you," she finally said.

"Anything for you," he murmured into her hairline as she settled back against him.

Sleep didn't come easily, or stay easily, with either of them that night. McCoy couldn't forget the fact that a deserter might enter their temporary home. Shakeba had so much on her mind, all of it centered on what the next day would bring. She curled into McCoy as tightly as she could to ward off what awaited them come sunrise.


	28. Chapter 28

The night before leaving for the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

A knock on the door this late at night was probably Drel'ak. At least, that's what Jokusho told herself as she went to the bedroom door to open it. He probably wanted to talk strategy one more time, or just make sure she wasn't freaking out. Which kinda made her want to freak out a little more.

But it wasn't Drel'ak at the door. Jokusho stared wordlessly at her mother until Katbujo finally forced a smile.

" _Do I get to come in or do you stop accepting visitors after a certain hour_?"

" _Sorry_ ," Jokusho mumbled. " _Come on in_."

She moved so her mother could enter the room and closed the door behind her, wondering what had compelled Katbujo to come visit.

Much had changed in the two years since her trial. At some point, both Hus and Katbujo had seemingly realized Jokusho was their daughter, not just something to hang their every shame and unhappiness on. Their relationships had improved greatly but once Jokusho had professed interest in participating in the Celos raid as a raider, not a scientist, tensions had again begun to sizzle, most notably between her and Katbujo. A week ago, things had come to a head while the two women were preparing dinner. Katbujo had made it clear she felt Jokusho was making a huge mistake and Jokusho was tired of being undervalued by her family. It was one thing to be the butt of every joke in town. To come home and face doubts and uncertainties from the very people who raised her? She'd had enough. Mother and daughter had avoided one another since the fight, both upset at being so misunderstood by the other. At Hus's prompting, Katbujo had come to do what she could to right the wrongs of their argument. After all, there was a good chance this would be the last time she'd see Jokusho. But now that they were facing one another, Katbujo wasn't sure what to say. She knew what she needed to communicate, but all the words felt trapped in her throat. Jokusho was doing nothing to help as she crossed her arms and stared at her mother.

" _I hate him, you know_ ," Katbujo finally croaked. " _I don't think I've ever hated someone more_."

Jokusho gave her mother a befuddled look.

" _Ovic_ ," Katbujo explained. " _I hate him. I know you resent how we handled things after you left him. And you're right. I should have let Hus kill him then. I'm sorry. I need you to know just how much I hate that man_."

" _Better late than never_ ," Jokusho mumbled, sitting down on her bed. Her mom joined her.

" _I didn't want you to go on this raid because I know…I know he's going to try to hurt you – try to finish what he started_."

" _You couldn't have just told me that the other night_? _Why'd you make it sound like you were so certain I was going to fail as a fighter_?"

" _I don't know_ ," Katbujo answered miserably. " _You're my youngest. I worry about you all the time. I don't want you to get hurt – more hurt than you have been already_."

" _You realize I need to do this, don't you_?" Jokusho asked her mom. " _I can't spend the rest of my life here with you and dad. I need to be able to walk around town with my head high. I need this community to respect me_." Her voice broke on the last sentence and she avoided her mom's eyes, knowing Katbujo was crying. Jokusho wasn't going to cry. She didn't have time for tears right now.

" _I know_ ," Katbujo sighed. " _I know you need this. And I know your father and Drel'ak will look out for you. But if he touches you, I will kill him myself. I will rip him limb from limb and hang every body part throughout the town to remind others of what happens when they cross this family_."

" _You know Gradogh is going to help him…whatever Ovic is planning, Gradogh is a part of_."

" _Your brother is an idiot_ ," Katbujo replied savagely. " _That short-sighted fool has no idea what kind of danger he's creating for you and for himself_."

Jokusho looked at her mom in confusion as Katbujo wiped her eyes and composed herself.

" _What do you mean, danger for himself_?"

" _You think Ovic will be satisfied making you pay for humiliating him_?"

Jokusho fought to keep from rolling her eyes.

" _I didn't really humiliate him, did I_? _I'm the one who was humiliated for cheating on him, remember_?" she asked sarcastically.

" _You did humiliate him, even if we're the only ones who know it_."

" _And I killed his brother_ –"

" _He hated Ustull_ ," Katbujo interrupted. " _You did him a favor by killing an obstacle to his access and control of power_."

Jokusho flinched as her mother mentioned what she had done on the last raid so casually and Katbujo's eyes softened.

" _I know you didn't do it on purpose. And Ovic may have put on a good show for everyone around here but the fact is, your actions only helped him consolidate power within his House_."

Jokusho's eyes lit up as she understood what Katbujo was saying.

" _You think he'll keep trying to consolidate power_? _You think he'd kill Gradogh_?"

" _If it put him in a position to take over House Morc_? _Absolutely_."

" _But he wouldn't be able to do that. Even if he did kill Gradogh, Drel'ak and Dad wouldn't let him do assume any kind of control over the House_."

Katbujo smiled wistfully. For all she had been through, her youngest still looked at things with the eyes of an optimist.

" _Just promise me, whatever happens, you take care of yourself_ ," Katbujo asked as she took Jokusho's hand in her own and squeezed. Her eyes burned into Jokusho's soul. " _I don't care what you have to do but you make sure you come back. Don't let anyone get in your way_."

" _Okay_ ," Jokusho replied hesitantly. She'd spent the better part of the last two weeks preparing for whatever Ovic and Gradogh were planning. But she felt like she was missing a piece of the plan with the way her mother was staring at her, as if she could memorize every inch of her baby.

* * *

" _Mom was acting really weird last night_ ," Jokusho confided in Drel'ak as they packed supplies into the ship that would take them to Celos-D42. They were alone so Jokusho felt comfortable speaking freely with her brother.

" _She stopped by to see you too_?" Drel'ak asked with some surprise.

" _Uh huh. Guess I wasn't the only one she paid a late-night visit to, huh_?"

" _Yeah, she made the rounds_ ," Drel'ak admitted. Normally, he stayed at his own place but he'd spent the night in the family home the night before because it was easier to transport supplies with the transporter at House Morc. His mother's visit had left him uneasy.

" _Was she as weird to you as she was me_?" Jokusho asked as she hauled a bin of ammunition onto the ship.

" _Sounds like it. She give you the speech about doing whatever, regardless of the personal or familial cost, to get home_?"

" _Yeah…with some light threats towards Ovic thrown in for good measure_."

Drel'ak nodded. " _Yep. Same here. If it makes you feel better, she always gets like this before raids_."

What he didn't tell his sister was that even though Katbujo loved to give a good speech about being careful and coming back alive, he'd never seen his mom as wound up as she'd been last night. To the point that she'd been ready to denounce Gradogh. Everyone knew Gradogh wasn't their mother's favorite but she'd never openly admitted she hoped he didn't survive a raid. The whole thing had left Drel'ak with an unshakable sense of dread. But the last thing he was going to do was feed into the nervousness he could already feel radiating off his sister.

" _So I shouldn't worry too much_?"

" _Nah – just be happy you're now being included in the last minute motivational speeches she loves to give_."

" _Motivation, huh_?" Jokusho cracked a wry smile. " _She could stand to work on her technique_."

The two stopped talking as they heard someone approaching but when her father stepped into the storage hold, Jokusho allowed herself to take a large gulp of air in relief.

" _We ready_?" he asked his children.

" _As much as we can ever be_ ," Drel'ak replied while Jokusho nodded. She refused to let her father see the slightest hint of fear or apprehension.

" _I'm proud of you_ ," Hus told her and then looked over at Drel'ak. " _Of both of you_."

" _Wait till we actually give you something to be proud of_ ," Jokusho said softly.

He looked at her. " _You've already given me much to be proud of_."

The rest of the morning would move quickly and they were en route to Celos-D42 before Jokusho had a chance to reflect on what her father had said to her. Whatever pride he felt in her now, she wanted to make sure he walked away from this raid with the steadfast knowledge that she was a Klingon down to her bones. And despite her mom's anxiety, Jokusho actually felt good about this mission. Maybe it was because she'd dreamt of Tsix the night before – nothing significant – it wasn't like he appeared to her and told her she'd be victorious. The dream had been mundane – more memories from when they'd been together than anything else. But it still made her feel at peace – she hadn't dreamt of Tsix since the trial. Night after night, she'd hoped she would see him in her sleep and yet it had never happened. Until last night. Jokusho chose to take it as a sign – a good sign.

She realized Ovic and Gradogh would do what they could to distract her, up to killing her if they had the opportunity, but Jokusho would not rest until the mission to Celos-D42 was successfully completed. And when she got back to Boreth, she would start living the life that Ovic had stolen from her all those years before. She would earn the respect of her fellow warriors and make a new name for herself.

She could not entertain any other options. This was her last chance to salvage her life within the Klingon community – the only life she'd ever known.


	29. Chapter 29

Hindsight was a bitch.

Later, McCoy would find thousands of signs and warnings as he reviewed his memories of the time between the second quake and being stuck in that cell. How could he have been so naïve and foolish? But that was the thing about hindsight – you could find whatever you were looking for in the past. The trouble was seeing it there, in the present.

* * *

"What?" Shakeba asked, with a hint of irritation in her voice as McCoy stared at her. They were eating their breakfasts and packing their bags at the same time, preparing for the last of their trek to the Klingon camp.

"Your hair…what'd you do to it?"

She reached up behind her head where she'd wrapped her hair in a tight chignon and secured it with a hair stick.

"I put it up. I put it up every morning."

"Not like that."

She paused and looked at him.

"My hair tie broke," she admitted. "I borrowed a hair stick I found in one of the bedrooms."

"Borrowed?" McCoy replied with a quirk of his brow.

"I left a note," she responded with an earnestness that made him smile.

"Turn around again," he asked and she complied.

"Looks good….but that damn thing could be a weapon. I'll never understand how you women do the things you do to yourselves."

She rolled her eyes at him and continued packing. McCoy caught a gleam of gold on her wrist as she closed her backpack. He frowned. The thick bangle wrapped around her left wrist was something else he hadn't seen before.

"Where'd the bracelet come from?"

"What is this? An interrogation?"

"Another thing you 'borrowed'?"

Shakeba spun around to face McCoy.

"This is mine. I came here with it and, Kah- fates allowing, I'll leave here with it."

McCoy frowned.

"I don't remember seeing it on you when we removed your armor at the medical post."

"Do you realize how creepy that sounds? Could it be you were concentrating on making sure I was alive? Stable? Besides, in battle I tuck it under my sleeve. You probably wouldn't have seen it unless you undressed me. Tell me you didn't undress me while I was unconscious."

"If I did, it was only to check on your wounds. I'm a doctor, not a pervert."

"Well, you're not a pervert, but you're certainly more than just a doctor to me," Shakeba replied.

"For the record, I didn't undress you – just lifted your shirt up to heal the phaser burns."

McCoy refused to let himself get distracted by her beauty or the smile she was giving him. For whatever reason, he wanted to know where the bracelet had suddenly come from. She looked different this morning. The hair was part of it but it was more than that. She felt different too. It occurred to him that this might be her getting battle ready. Having been on the Enterprise long enough now, McCoy had grown familiar with the little tics of his closer friends as they prepared for away missions. Everyone had pre-mission habits: Jim liked to play 3D chess with Spock the night before a mission. Uhura liked to turn in a read a book. Scotty liked to tinker on the distillery – he wouldn't touch a drop of alcohol before a mission because he claimed there was nothing worse than being hungover when shit went awry, but he found it soothing to hear the hum of the engines as he played with the pot or the distillation column, making adjustments to brew the perfect batch of whisky. As for McCoy, his own preparation for a mission was to grumble, drink, and hide in his office, avoiding any human interaction…all in all, not much different from his daily routine otherwise.

And then there were the things people did when they were standing on the transporter platform, just before beaming down. Uhura would unknowingly play with her ponytail, flipping it over one shoulder then the other. Jim had a tendency to flex his pecs and McCoy was pretty damn certain the captain knew exactly what he was doing. Spock…well, he was a computer so he didn't count. Scotty would hum to himself and tap his feet. McCoy had been told he bounced on the balls of his feet but he wasn't aware of it. Everyone had routines and tics they used to prepare themselves for big events. So it wouldn't be a surprise to find out that Shakeba had her own rituals, conscious or otherwise, that she underwent to prepare for something like what they were about to do.

As McCoy gazed at Shakeba, he saw a hardness in her eyes that hadn't been there just a few days ago. There was a coldness to her and the severe hairstyle did nothing to soften or warm her. For the first time since they'd begun to be intimate with one another, McCoy found himself doubting how well he knew her. Just an hour ago they'd been tangled up in bed and now, he wondered what really went on behind those large, dark eyes.

"Where's the bracelet been this whole time?"

"In my pack. This really is feeling like an examination, you know."

"One more question."

"Fine. What?"

Shakeba folded her arms across her chest.

"Why are you wearing it now?"

"For luck."

McCoy gave her a skeptical look.

"Given how well things went the last time you were wore that thing, you really think it's gonna bring you the right kind of luck?"

He grabbed his bag and started out the door without giving her a chance to answer.

"Asshole," she muttered as she sprinted to catch up.

* * *

"You sure you're not writing the next great novel there?"

Shakeba looked up at him sharply.

"Do you want to take notes on our surroundings, instead? Want to give being useful a try?"

He held his hands up to signify defeat.

"Just sayin', those notes must be quite detailed, is all."

"Just saying, hmmm? You sure do 'just say' a lot."

* * *

"What was that?"

"What?"

"You didn't hear that?"

"Stop messing around."

McCoy looked over at Keebs angrily. "I'll have you know, I'm not messin' around. There's something out there."

Keebs rolled her eyes.

"Shocking to think we might share this woodsy space with other creatures."

"Didn't sound like a creature to me," McCoy sniffed.

"Oh? What do you think is out there, Doctor?"

"I don't know. We're close to camp – maybe we should consider there might be Klingons around."

"If there are Klingons out here, how are we still alive with all the damn noise you're making?" Keebs whispered savagely.

* * *

"We've got to be close, right?"

"You're kidding me, yes?"

"What? I wanna know how close we are."

"How you aren't dead ten times over already is beyond me."

* * *

"Okay, but seriously. You heard that, right?"

McCoy looked up to realize Keebs had stopped moving just in time to keep from running into her.

He heard another breaking twig.

"There it is again," he whispered. "Ya had to have heard that."

Keebs turned to face him. Her expression was…bemused? Sardonic? What was going on with her?

"Oh Doctor," she finally said softly. "You shouldn't have let yourself get in this situation."

"What situation? What'd I do?" McCoy asked, bewildered, before realizing he was hearing a lot of twigs breaking around them.

Slowly, Keebs dropped her bag from her shoulder, looking around at the forest surrounding them. She raised her hands in the air as a sign of peace to whom or whatever was slowly coming closer to them. McCoy was flabbergasted.

"Lower your weapon," she advised him as the sounds grew closer. He had no idea if they were expecting Klingons or wild animals. If Klingons, he wondered how they were so good at concealing themselves and moving so quietly, given their size and aggressiveness.

With her bag, containing a disruptor, on the ground, she slowly, with very broad gestures, reached for her knife. McCoy unclipped his phaser too, holding it up and away from him to show whoever their company was that he meant no harm.

"All I have is this phaser," he called out. "I'm putting it on the ground."

As he dropped his phaser down, Keebs finished unholstering her knife and held it in front of her, as though to also drop it on the ground…before standing up straight and pointing the knife at McCoy.

" _He is unarmed_ ," she called out. " _I have my d'k'tahg on him. You can come out_."

"What's goin' on?" McCoy asked angrily. "What're you sayin'? Why're you pointin' that thing at me?"

From the brush arose at least ten Klingons in full armor. Two approached Shakeba and another two came up to McCoy.

The Klingons handled them roughly, though McCoy realized they were conversing with Shakeba.

" _I told you he was unarmed_."

" _Why would we trust you_?" one of the men patting her down sneered.

" _Because, thus far, I have done everything I told you I would do_ ," she replied.

" _You have much left to fulfill on your end of the agreement_ ," the other man told her, with considerably less attitude and gruffness.

" _As do you_ ," she shot back.

Meanwhile, McCoy was restrained by two Klingons, each one grabbing ahold of one of his arms.

"Did you know about this? What's going on here?" he called out to Shakeba.

They faced one another briefly while the Klingons grabbed their weapons and bags, including her PADD. She needed that PADD to blow up the drill. McCoy looked from her to her bag in desperation. The Klingons who had been holding his arms let him go but he knew better than to attempt an escape.

"Tell me this is a part of your plan. Tell me you have an idea of how to get out of this," he begged the woman avoiding his eyes. Finally she looked up at him.

"You were a fool to believe me," she said to him with a cold smile on her face. "Your mistake will cost you dearly."

McCoy was dumbfounded. He'd spent so much time accusing her of loyalty to the Klingons and now that she was proving him right, he didn't know how to react.

" _Enough blathering_ ," one of the Klingons yelled, poking both of them with his sword.

" _Now we will find out if our trust in you has been misplaced,"_ another Klingon said to Shakeba, grabbing her arm to push her forward.

"Care to translate for me?" McCoy muttered to Shakeba as he too was prodded forward.

"No," she replied flippantly and he grabbed her arm, spinning her around to face him, and pulling her close to him.

"I've never hurt a woman before –"

"And you're not going to start now," Shakeba interrupted with a smirk as Klingons came between them and pushed him away from her.

"No touch!" one of them yelled at McCoy. "Just walk!"

"Okay, okay!" he replied, his hands up over his head.

Shakeba raised her eyebrow at him and it was a good thing the Klingons had taken their bags from them or he would have absolutely chucked his bag at her head.

The short walk to camp felt like an eternity to McCoy, who remained sulkily silent for the rest of the journey. He wished he had a universal translator on him so he could understand the words exchanged between Shakeba and their captors. He wanted to cling to some hope that she hadn't betrayed him – that they were in this together. But when they reached the outskirts of the camp, he was quickly led into a cell while she was left outside of it.

" _You will wait here_ ," one Klingon cautioned her before walking into camp.

She nodded in response.

Some of their entourage disappeared into the camp but two guards remained outside the door of his cell and another three guards surrounded her as she stood in front of his cell, her eyes on him, her expression unreadable. Unreadable until another Klingon returned with the one who had last spoken.

McCoy watched as Shakeba stood straighter when the new Klingon approached. She smiled as if greeting a long, lost friend and he wondered if this was the brother she had told them about – the one she supposedly disliked.

" _I didn't expect to see you alive, tiny one_."

This new Klingon was important, if his armor, and the deference being shown to him by the other Klingons, and Shakeba herself, were any indication.

" _Given how the raid went, you won't be surprised to hear that I was not eager to see you again_ ," she replied, smile still on her face.

McCoy wondered if she was really as happy to see the Klingon as she was acting. Frankly, he wondered a lot of things about the woman he thought he'd gotten a handle on over the past few days.

" _Ah yes, unfortunate that Drel'ak and Hus fell_ ," the Klingon answered with his own cruel smile. " _Sometimes, these things happen_."

McCoy had never wanted to understand a conversation more in his life. What the devil were they saying? Were they talking about him? They probably were. Goddamn it.

" _I hope my gift_ ," she nodded to McCoy's cell, " _is sufficient to convince you of my good intentions_."

McCoy knew it! He knew they were talking about him!

The Klingon looked at the cell, and McCoy, with distaste.

" _What is so special about this one_? _He doesn't even appear to be a commander_ ," the Klingon sniffed as he looked at the braids on McCoy's uniform shirt.

Disdain didn't need translation and McCoy grabbed the bars of his cell, ready to show the Klingon just what he was made of, a growl rumbling in his chest.

" _He's the CMO of the Enterprise_ ," Shakeba replied. " _But, more importantly, he is the captain's best friend. Starfleet may not negotiate but Jim Kirk will do anything for his crew and friends_."

The Klingon gave McCoy a last, disparaging glance before turning to look at Shakeba. " _You better hope you're right, tiny one_ ," he said as he gazed hungrily at Shakeba.

" _I know I am_ ," she replied, sliding up closer to him and resting her hand on his crossed forearms. " _The least I could do was bring you a valuable bargaining chip_."

McCoy had a moment of confusion. Did Klingon family members look at one another like that? Did they touch each other like that? It was… troubling, to say the least. He knew he wasn't well-versed on Klingon society but he was pretty sure he would remember any references to incest before now – and Shakeba hadn't mentioned – oh shit. Was this – was this the Klingon she'd been partnered with? The one who was friends with her brother? But why was she smiling at him? What in the fresh hell was going on here?

Even as Shakeba touched the Klingon willingly, McCoy wanted to break his arms for the way he was looking at her. He couldn't stop thinking of what she'd told him about what the Klingon had done to her in bed. For fuck's sake, she'd played him. He was reacting exactly the way she wanted him to. It had all been lies. McCoy hated himself and hated her for manipulating his emotions so quickly – so expertly.

" _You must be tired from the journey. Come, let's get you cleaned up_ ," Ovic stated, wrapping his arm around her and pushing her in front of him, away from the cell and towards the camp.

" _Make sure your translators work before you let him comm his captain_ ," Ovic ordered the remaining guards. They nodded.

" _And if the comm doesn't give you any useful information, you know what you need to do_."

" _Yes sir_."

McCoy watched Shakeba and the Klingon walk away till he could no longer see them.

Whatever was happening was bad. It was very, very bad.


	30. Chapter 30

Jim hadn't expected to hear the chirp of his communicator so soon. Everyone knew to avoid pinging him for the day, because he wanted the line free for the inevitable comm from the Klingon camp. He'd thought it would take Bones and the Klingon sympathizer longer. But here he was, staring down at his communicator. Before he let it go too long and McCoy gave up, Jim flipped the device open.

"Bones?"

"Jim…"

Something was wrong. He could hear it in his best friend's voice.

"What is it? What's going on?"

McCoy sighed, a sound that reverberated through the communicator.

"King's gambit," he finally said and the Klingons standing on the other side of his cell, listening to the conversation between him and his captain looked at one another in confusion. Was the universal translator working?

Meanwhile, Jim was stunned. He knew exactly what 'king's gambit' was code for – hell, he'd made the codes, all of them based on famous chess moves.

"No. This isn't over. We sure as shit aren't leaving you there."

"Dammit man, hold your tongue."

"I don't care who's listening!"

"You should."

There was silence between the two men for a moment before McCoy spoke again. His voice was weary.

"You were right. I was stupid to believe –"

"Don't do that to yourself."

"Whole planet's at risk, Jim."

"We'll figure something out. We always do."

"Get out. I mean it. Get yourselves out while you can."

"Not without you."

Before McCoy could protest, two more Klingons approached the cell and one of his guards reached through the bars of the cell and grabbed the communicator from him, abruptly ending the comm. The new Klingons were carrying something between them and McCoy's eyes widened when he recognized what it was. He'd only seen pictures of it in medical journals. A mind sifter. He backed away from the front of the cell.

"You're not using that on me," he cried out as the new Klingons drew closer to his cell.

* * *

Immediately after the comm had been severed, Jim had sought out Spock. He was certain the comm hadn't been dropped on his end because Scotty had stabilized the comm links, but just in case, he checked with the engineer and explained to Scotty what has transpired during the brief comm. Bones was in trouble and Jim didn't know how long his friend had. And the Klingon sympathizer was just that – still loyal to the Klingons. Jim hated when he was right about this kind of thing. But right now, he needed to focus on two things – getting the evacuation of the planet organized and figuring out a way to get Bones out of the Klingon camp.

Jim and Spock were deep in conversation when Uhura burst into the room.

"Captain!"

"Lieutenant?"

"She's not working with the Klingons, sir."

Uhura didn't have time to waste on niceties and while Jim always appreciated his communications officer's forthright manner, he wasn't particularly in the mood to debate what, for him, was a settled subject. He crossed his arms and gave Uhura a hard look.

"I see you talked to Scotty."

She nodded her head.

"And you still think she's going to destroy that drill?"

"I do."

Jim shook his head.

"Bones gave me a king's gambit code and you want me to ignore it?"

"No," Uhura replied, showing the first hint of uncertainty. Jim hadn't given Scotty specifics of his conversation with McCoy, including the code. In all the time they'd been on the Enterprise, a crew member had never had to use the king's gambit code. Still, she kept her shoulders held high.

"I don't think you should ignore the code. But I still believe she's going to come through for us. Maybe she asked Doctor McCoy to tell you he'd been betrayed and the mission had failed."

"Why would she do that?"

"I don't know."

"Then why are you so convinced she's trustworthy?" Jim asked in exasperation.

"Because my job is to read others. To communicate effectively with them and figure out what they're trying to tell us. It takes a lot of skill and training but beyond that, it takes some instinct. And my gut is telling me that what I learned about Shakeba out there in the woods was real. I don't think she truly gave Doctor McCoy up."

Jim stared at Uhura as she stared back at him. Finally he broke the silence.

"I wish I had your optimism."

* * *

"He thinks I'm wrong," Uhura complained to Christine later in the privacy of their room.

"Is that what he said?" Christine asked as she handed Nyota a glass of water.

"More or less."

Christine sat down at the small table where Nyota was sitting and took her girlfriend's hand.

"The worst thing is, I'm starting to question myself too." Nyota looked over at Christine with anguished eyes.

"Why?" Christine asked, compassion etched all over her face.

"Len used king's gambit with Jim. So either she did betray him – and the mission – or they want Jim to think she betrayed him."

"Why would they want Jim to think that?"

"I don't know. That's what I keep coming back to. Why fake something like that?"

"But you don't think she'd betray him."

"No. I really don't. And that's what has me wondering if I'm wrong about her. Maybe she pulled a fast one on me too."

"What do you think Jim's gonna do?"

The women knew evacuations of the planet were underway. Ships from all over the Federation had poured in to assist with getting Celosians off the planet and thus far, the Klingons hadn't shown up to interfere. Christine's question was geared towards what Jim was going to do about their friend and commanding officer.

"I don't know," Nyota admitted with a shrug. "But it's Jim. You know he'll pull something out of his ass."

Christine gave a wry laugh.

"He always does," she said before getting up and planting a small kiss on Nyota's forehead.

"See you later."

Nyota gave a weak wave as she stared, unseeing, in front of her, spending the last of her lunch break deep in thought, trying to figure out if she had misread the woman they'd befriended in the woods. She would never forgive herself if the Enterprise lost Len because she'd left him alone with a woman who had delivered him to the Klingons to be tortured and/or killed.

* * *

Heading back to her temporary assignment as a coordinator for the evacuation parties being lifted from the planet, Uhura was still lost in her own thoughts when she realized someone had begun to walk alongside her.

"Commander," she said in surprise. It had been a while since she and Spock had found a moment alone… and she was certain he knew about Christine. Even in times of crisis, gossip traveled.

"Lieutenant," he replied in his familiar, even voice. "You and Mister Scott appear to be very fond of this woman whose loyalties remain as yet unclear."

"I'm not sure what to think anymore."

"But it is your inclination to trust her?"

"It is."

Spock nodded thoughtfully.

"In the years I have known you, your instincts have been right an astounding 97.3% of the time. That said, I thought you may be interested to know: after you left, I asked the captain if I might look at his memory of the comm with Doctor McCoy –"

"You…mind melded…with Jim?" Uhura tried so hard to keep emotion from seeping into her voice but she was shocked. It had taken Spock forever to agree to melding with her. He had always told her a mind meld was something that could only be shared with someone who could be a viable life partner. And now he was melding with Jim? Sure, yes, everyone wanted to save Len but when did mind melding become something Spock just did randomly?

Spock stopped and turned to face Uhura, causing her to stop and face him as well.

"I could not think of another way to ascertain Doctor McCoy's state of mind during the comm. It is an imperfect method, but melding to observe memory is better than asking someone who does not possess an eidetic memory to recount a conversation."

Uhura allowed a small smile.

"So what did you learn from your meld?" she asked as they began walking together once more. There was a comfort to talking with Spock. She'd missed conversations with the Vulcan.

"My meld with Jim was interesting," Spock began. "It was clear Doctor McCoy felt betrayed. His language and tone were those of a man who was hurt and angry."

Uhura hung her shoulders. "So she did betray him."

"I am sorry, Nyota. I did not tell you this to upset you…I have been speculating about your theory that perhaps Doctor McCoy and the Klingon sympathizer –"

"Shakeba. Her name's Shakeba," Uhura said quietly, unsure of why she was still advocating for the other woman if Shakeba had, in fact, betrayed Len.

"Shakeba. What if they did want us to think she had betrayed him for whatever reason? Were you aware I have watched Doctor McCoy play poker on a fairly regular basis?"

Uhura rolled her eyes.

"Spock, everyone knows about the weekly poker night." And she knew Spock seldom participated in the game itself, finding betting on cards to be illogical. There was also the fact that he could count cards easily, which had led to several heated comments from others. Spock, of course, never really understood what the fuss was about. Anyone could train themselves to count cards, even without an eidetic memory. But he had been told card counting was counterproductive to the point of the game – a point he failed to see. Nonetheless, Spock joined with the other poker players on a weekly basis, in the hopes of forming a deeper camaraderie with the other senior officers.

"And yet, everyone is secretive about it. I find the whole exercise highly illogical. In any case, I have learned firsthand that Doctor McCoy is exceptional at bluffing when he chooses to be."

This time, Uhura stopped short to look at Spock, a hopeful light in her eyes.

"So you think, maybe, he's bluffing?"

"As you know, the Doctor has never been very good at keeping his emotions in check and he sounded quite emotional on the comm with the Captain. But if anyone could channel their emotions into a bluff, it would be Doctor McCoy."

"Did you tell Jim this?"

"I recommended to the captain that when we transport security to the Klingon camp, we should have them retrieve Shakeba in addition to Doctor McCoy if possible."

"Thank you, Spock!"

Uhura gave her ex a quick hug and he returned the gesture with all the Vulcan awkwardness that, even after all this time, she still found endearing.

He cleared his throat as they pulled away from one another.

"I also wanted to wish you well with Nurse Chapel. I believe you are well matched for one another."

"Thank you," Uhura replied. "I…should have told you on Yorktown…but I didn't know how to tell Christine and I –"

"You did not owe me any further explanation than the one you gave me. I want you to be happy, Nyota. If not with myself, then with someone else."

They reached the main square and Spock gave Nyota a nod before walking past her to the building he was working in. Uhura watched him walk by before heading to her own building and immersing herself in the countless tasks attached to each evacuation party departure. In the back of her mind, she continued to work on the puzzle of why McCoy and Shakeba would want them to think the mission had failed.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. First things first. This chapter contains a non-consensual sexual situation so if you don't want to read it, skip this chapter.  
> Secondly, I've reached the time of year where I start traveling for work again. My schedule for the back half of this year is a bit chaotic and I'm not as far along on this story as I'd hoped to be (still a good hundred pages ahead of where the story is right now, and I have a clear vision of where I want things to go but I haven't gotten it down on paper). My plan right now is to start publishing chapters every other week with the caveat that if I'm traveling, I may go a couple of weeks without posting. This makes my Type-A skin crawl to not have a set schedule but life is not always what we want it to be, I suppose. Thank you all for your patience, for your enthusiasm, and for all the kind words you've left me. It really makes a difference to know you're there, enjoying what I put out. LLAP!

The face staring back at her in the mirror felt like that of a stranger.

Shakeba wasn't surprised to find out Ovic had appropriated the nicest building in the abandoned town where the Klingons had set up their mining operations for himself. What did one man need with a 5-story mansion-office hybrid that had formerly served as the town hall? Nothing more than to make a point about who was in charge. And, in fairness, he had been sharing the building with Gradogh at first. Though only two men in this one building, while some Klingons were sleeping under makeshift tents outside still struck Shakeba as wasteful and wrong.

She had showered and was now wearing the silky, long nightgown and peignoir that Ovic had left out for her. Shakeba never wore frippery like this. All the lace and the thin fabric – it seemed silly. But there was nothing silly about what was about to happen. She idly brushed her hair, staring at the stranger in the mirror. So much depended on her next actions. She needed to stay focused, needed to rein in her emotions, and she needed to make sure her objectives were accomplished…and if she couldn't complete all of them, she needed to ensure the most important one happened.

Rising from her seat, she moved to one of the windows in the room – a window that faced the drill. She watched as Klingons below continued to operate it, mining every bit of obslivium that their ships would hold. Almost absentmindedly, Shakeba removed her bracelet and set it on the window ledge, running her fingers along the thick bangle.

A knock sounded at the door and Shakeba schooled her features into an alluring smile.

"Come in," she called out, stepping away from the window.

Ovic entered, devouring her with his eyes.

* * *

McCoy looked at the apparatus the Klingons were carrying. A sifter, if not used carefully, would scramble his brains. And none of these men looked like rocket scientists. He was not at all confident that any of them knew how to use the sifter in the first place, let alone use it carefully. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the idea that Shakeba would leave him in this cell and the idea that she'd let them fry his brain…Good lord, he'd let a couple of doe eyes and nice tits completely snow him over. She'd never cared about him. It had all been a plot to get him here. But why? She could have killed him a dozen times on the way here – why had she wanted him to survive and be held prisoner? Was it the torture aspect? Was she so thoroughly ensconced in Klingon culture that she'd rather fry his brain and play with him like a cat plays with its prey rather than give him a swift death?

Well fuck that. Leonard McCoy was not giving up without a fight.

Over their heated conversation, McCoy shouted at the four Klingons, not caring that they probably wouldn't understand him. "I'll see each of you in hell before that thing goes on my head." He knew it was a losing battle, but McCoy put up his fists, not sure which Klingon he should attempt to hit first.

His protest was ignored though, as the four Klingons continued to face off. The guards stood in front of McCoy's cell, barring entrance to the other two Klingons. They were shouting at one another, which was doing nothing to help McCoy's confidence in any of them. Still, it was intriguing because he couldn't be certain, but he was pretty sure the two guards who had been listening to his comm with Jim were arguing with the other two about the sifter. They didn't seem to be in any hurry to let that thing near him. Well, at least he could agree with them on that one thing.

The arguing devolved into physical fighting and though McCoy had spent the last week trying to be more sensitive about buying into Klingon stereotypes, he couldn't help but feel vindicated as he watched the four Klingons right outside his cell throw down. He was rooting for his guards because they seemed to be against allowing the sifter to be used but he still wasn't prepared for the casualness with which they killed the other two Klingons. And after the fight was over, they both looked at him. One of them grabbed the sifter and, just like that, McCoy wondered if he'd misread the situation. Had the fight merely been about who got to fry his brains?

He backed away as the guards entered his cell.

"No!" he cried, putting his fists back up and taking what he hoped was a fighting stance.

"Is fine," the Klingon on his right said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Though the man was being gentle, the disparity between Klingon strength and his own was very clear. McCoy lowered his clenched hands in defeat.

"No fight with us," the man counseled McCoy. "No sifter for you."

"But you're holding it," he countered, gesturing to the other Klingon, who was in fact still holding the device.

"Yes. But we ordered not to use."

"Someone ordered you not to use the sifter on me?"

"Is part of deal," the Klingon holding the sifter explained. His colleague glared at him.

"What deal?" McCoy asked, more confused than he'd been in a long, long time. Which was saying something because he'd spent the better part of the last two and a half years confused.

"No more questions," the other Klingon commanded.

* * *

It all started two days earlier.

When Shakeba and McCoy had stopped for lunch the day Jim had commed McCoy, she'd glanced at her PADD and noticed an unread message. She was still using her own PADD, since she'd taken it with her when she tried to escape and it wasn't like they'd had time to grab spare PADDs when the medical post had erupted in flames. Though McCoy had grumbled and complained about allowing her to use it ("How do we know she's not sending them messages on that thing?"), he'd calmed down about it over the last week. She was surprised to see the message indicator. No one had tried to contact her since the day of the second raid and the second quake.

More surprising was that the message was from someone other than Ovic or Gradogh. It was from Astori's husband, Avum.

" _I don't know if you're still alive. I hope you are, for everyone's sake. Ovic killed Gradogh this morning. He has assumed control of our operations here and I am certain he intends to take over House Morc upon our return to Boreth. There are those of us who oppose him, including a handful of men who witnessed what he did to Drel'ak and what he tried to do to your father. I have spoken with your mother and sister. Both agreed I should attempt to contact you before taking matters into my own hands. Ovic must be stopped. He cannot be allowed to leave Celos alive. You have first rights to killing him. Will you help us_?"

Initially, Shakeba was stunned. She didn't respond, wanting to take time to think about why Avum was asking for her help and what answer, if any, she would give. The more she thought about his message, the more she doubted its sincerity. Avum wanted her to do his dirty work. As a man, he would become the head of House Morc if Ovic was taken out of the picture. Convenient, wasn't it, for him to ask her to kill the only obstacle to his power grab. Shakeba instantly felt guilty for being so cynical. Avum had been one of the nicer ones. Granted, he hadn't done much to support her after she left Ovic but he'd never antagonized her and she had always gotten the impression he wasn't any more a fan of Gradogh than she was. Shakeba didn't want to think too much on the fact that she felt little to no sadness over finding out that Gradogh was dead. She's been ready to kill him herself so it really shouldn't have been too much of a surprise that she felt so little remorse. The bigger surprise was that anyone had thought to tell her what was happening at the Klingon camp.

The Klingons were not going to suddenly accept her if she killed Ovic and even if they did welcome her with open arms, she didn't want their approval or affection anymore, did she? Her brow wrinkled as she tried to figure out what she wanted. She was angry about the lies Hus and Katbujo had told her…but she knew what it meant to be a Klingon. Did she understand human society? Was she willing to relearn how to integrate herself into a new society at this point in her life? Klingons weren't perfect but they were the devils she knew.

She caught Doctor McCoy looking at her with a thoughtful expression and she worked to relax her facial features. There was no way she could tell him about the message from Avum. He wouldn't understand why she was struggling so much to figure out what she wanted to do. She shook him off when he asked her why she was acting strangely but Shakeba realized she needed to lock it down. She couldn't have him questioning her and being suspicious.

That night, she asked to stay in separate rooms and was relieved when Leonard didn't push back at her. The moment she was in her own room, she jumped on her PADD and sent a message back to Avum, asking for more details. They went back and forth over messages. Avum told her Ovic and Gradogh had been approached by several Klingon scientists several days ago and warned about the drilling in relation to the planet's mounting instability. Their response had been to kill the scientists. Reluctantly, Shakeba admitted she wasn't far from the Klingon mining camp. She also confessed she had a Starfleet officer with her but lied and claimed they were coming to negotiate with the Klingons. Avum said he would come find them in the woods and bring them into the camp, as though he and his hunting party had captured them. Shakeba agreed to let him hold McCoy as prisoner initially so that no one would grow suspicious but Shakeba made him promise he would keep McCoy safe and free him after she killed Ovic.

A plan in place, Shakeba turned off her PADD and got up, pacing the room. She didn't want the Klingons to know what she planned to do to the drill. Even if some of them, like Avum, might agree with her actions, there were a sufficient number who would be angry enough over her killing Ovic. If she managed to kill him. She looked around the room. In order to ensure the drill's destruction, she would need something to download the PADD's programs to…something she could manually set to transmit the codes necessary to destroy the drill. Something small enough that she could carry it, keep it on her when their bags would be taken in the "capture." Shakeba eyed the dresser in her temporary bedroom before her eyes fell on the exact item she needed.

Even though she stayed up all night, Shakeba appeared well-rested to Doctor McCoy. Some of that was doubtless due to the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She was happy she'd completed her task, erasing all trace of the drill virus program from her PADD and she'd had time to further plan how things would be handled at the Klingon camp.

Throughout the day, she communicated with Avum. At one point, as she watched Leonard treat water from the stream to ensure it would be drinkable, a wave of affection for the other human hit her so hard, she worried her knees were going to give out on her. Soon after, she sent a message to Avum.

" _It is not enough to keep my colleague alive. You must promise me no harm – be it from beatings, mind sifters, or any other method, will come to him_."

" _I have already promised you I would take care of him. Your insistence makes me think this man is more than just a colleague to you. Have you turned your back on your Klingon heritage so quickly_?"

"What're you typing so fervently about?" McCoy asked her as he handed her a full canteen of purified water.

"I'm taking notes on our surroundings," she replied.

Throughout the day, McCoy kept trying to get more information out of her over what she was typing on her PADD, about why she was still so agitated, and it was all she could do to keep from spilling everything to him. She hated lying to him.

That night, perhaps their last one together, Shakeba allowed herself to feel as much as she wanted, to tell Leonard exactly what she wanted from him – to beg repeatedly for it. And even though he didn't give in to her amorous requests, she took comfort in how close he held her that night. Sleep was elusive – she was too nervous to let her mind relax enough for any kind of true rest – but she loved the feeling of his arms around her. She hoped he would make it through his time in the Klingon camp unscathed.

Even though she knew the Klingons had them surrounded long before McCoy realized it, their capture sent her heart into her throat. Shakeba fell back on the years of lectures she'd received from Hus about her inability to control her expressiveness. This one time in her life, she needed to deceive and do so convincingly. As she watched McCoy's expression change to one of disappointment and disgust, she allowed herself to finally breathe freely. He was buying it. On the one hand, what did it say about their burgeoning relationship that he was so quick to buy her role as an unscrupulous mole? But she didn't have time to let herself feel any kind of pain. Avum took their bags from them, confiscating her PADD just as she'd known he would. They talked as the group made its way to the mining camp.

" _Starfleet could not bother to send someone with you who could speak Klingon_? _What kind of negotiations were these to be_?"

Shakeba looked at her sister's husband with annoyance. " _You know as well as I do that we didn't have much choice in who came with me. The second quake left all of us scattered_."

" _Why did you agree to help them_?"

" _I needed a way back to the camp. This worked as well as any other_."

" _You know Ovic will be eager to get you alone_."

Shakeba cringed internally. " _Of course_ ," she said, keeping her face passive. " _And I will do what I need to do to make sure we are alone. But for my troubles, I expect you to uphold your end of the bargain_."

Avum glanced back at McCoy who had remained silent since his attempt to lay hands on the woman walking with him earlier.

" _You are so concerned for the welfare of this scrawny, unpleasant man_. _Why_?"

" _I told you – he is Captain Kirk's friend. If you want to get off this planet without a fight, and the loss of that precious obslivium, you will be wise to keep Doctor McCoy safe_."

" _He is a healer, then_?"

" _Yes_."

" _And your interest in his safety is strictly diplomatic_."

Avum gave her a knowing look and Shakeba ignored him.

Their conversation was put on hold with their arrival at the outskirts of the camp, where several cells for prisoners had been erected. Avum left Shakeba with several Klingons assigned to guard Doctor McCoy as he went to retrieve Ovic. As much as Shakeba wanted to reassure McCoy that he'd be okay, she couldn't. And besides, she needed to gather her courage to face Ovic once more.

And there he was, sooner than she'd anticipated. Looking at him made her blood run cold and all she wanted to do was attack him. But Avum had told her the best way to ensure Ovic's defeat would be one-on-one. Do it out in the open and his defenders would join in, killing her, Avum, and anyone else. She needed to be smart about this no matter how much she hated him. And so she held her tongue, let him casually mention the deaths of Drel'ak and Hus, knowing he wanted to provoke her – wanted to test just how genuine her newfound desire to rejoin the fold really was. And when he turned his eyes to Leonard, sniveling about how he wasn't high enough in the ranks to matter, she bit the insides of her cheeks, silently begging McCoy to forgive her for ever letting him get this close to true evil. Hopefully, he'd be freed and beamed away from the camp before Ovic ever had a chance to play with him. When Ovic directed the guards to use a sifter on the doctor if the comm with Captain Kirk did not reveal any useful information, Shakeba couldn't help but look at Avum with fire in her eyes. She refused to look at Leonard, even as she realized it was probably the last time they would see one another. She couldn't bear to see the hurt in his eyes.

* * *

McCoy had no idea what was going on. All he knew for certain was that his guards had made some sort of deal to keep any kind of mind control device from being used on him. And they were willing to kill to keep their end of the deal. But they refused to answer any of his questions so now they were back outside of his cell, glowering at him as he glowered at them. Maybe they weren't glowering – maybe that was just how their faces looked. McCoy almost cracked a smile thinking of how Uhura would rush to tell him he had a resting glower face too. By God, he missed the rest of the crew. He really hoped he wasn't going to die in a Klingon mining camp. He wanted to see his friends again – Jim, Scotty, Sulu...hell, even that pointy-eared computer Spock, though he'd never admit he missed the Vulcan out loud.

As if thinking of the Enterprise crew was enough to make it materialize, McCoy heard, then saw a familiar hum of light and energy just outside his cell. Two red shirts materialized from the transporter beams, their phasers drawn.

"Don't!" McCoy shouted. "Lower your weapons!"

The red shirts looked at him and nodded to acknowledge his words. Unfortunately, they didn't have the chance to lower their weapons because the Klingons guarding McCoy wasted no time grabbing their disruptors. Though one security ensign managed to shoot one of the guards in the arm, the fight was uneven and in minutes, two dead security ensigns joined the dead Klingons on the ground outside his cell.

"Why'd you do that?" he shouted at his guards. "They wouldn't have killed you!"

The Klingons stared at him a moment before starting to laugh.

"You think we scared? Of humans?"

The thought was uproariously funny to both guards.

"You killed Starfleet officers – do you understand what Jim – Captain Kirk – will do to you when he sets me free?"

McCoy found absolutely nothing about murder amusing but his words just made the Klingons laugh harder.

"Tiny man, worry too much," one the guards finally said as he caught his breath.

"I don't understand. You killed two Klingons for trying to use a sifter on me...and then you killed the men who came to rescue me."

McCoy wondered if Jim knew the red shirts were dead. Probably. The captain had known exactly where he was, and they'd sent security to try breaking him out. McCoy just hoped Jim didn't beam over himself. He was in no hurry to watch his best friend die in front of him.

"We keep you safe. No orders for other humans," the other guard replied, having finally stopped snickering as well.

McCoy shook his head in frustration. Nothing about this day made a lick of sense.

* * *

Whereas Shakeba hadn't been able to look at Leonard in the eyes out of sadness, she couldn't stand to look in Ovic's eyes either but for very different reasons. He swept into the room, looking at her like a piece of meat…which, she supposed, wasn't far off from what he actually thought of her. She was something for him to bend to his will, to break. And once he got what he wanted from her, he'd discard her. Which was why she needed to act first.

Giving him a hooded stare as she approached the bed, she beckoned to him.

" _Won't you join me_?" she asked, wondering if there were any shower the universe over that would be able to clean the film of disgust, shame, and fear off of her when this was finished.

" _You don't waste any time_ ," he noted, removing his robes and dropping his disruptor on top of the discarded materials.

" _I assumed your point in leaving this for me_ ," she gestured to the lacy, delicate loungewear she was wearing, " _was so that we could end up here. Seems foolish to waste time pretending otherwise_."

" _Such a far cry from the last time I shared a bed with you_ ," he purred.

" _I've learned so much since then_ ," Shakeba replied as his hands ran up her body and she focused her mind on the end goals to keep from slapping him away.

" _You were a stupid girl to leave me_ ," he whispered in her ear and before she could respond, he flipped her over on the mattress, pressing her back down with the heel of one hand while pushing her robe and nightgown up over her backside with his other hand.

Shakeba found herself frozen in panic for a beat. As much as she'd prepared herself for this, feeling him towering over her from behind, his hand restraining her – it was too much. She couldn't breathe and all she could think about was how much this had hurt last time.

Ovic took her temporary paralysis in stride. Truthfully, it excited him to know she was rigid with fear. He'd fantasized about this very thing so many times over the last few years. He would make her pay for what she'd done. For daring to think she could escape him – that she was somehow better than him. She was weak and weakness could be crushed. He'd enjoy this, draw it out this time. He pulled her legs apart and she cried out over the excessive use of strength. Somewhere near her groin, she felt a pain and realized he'd likely pulled at least one of her tendons with his forceful actions.

" _You like that_?" he asked her, taunting. " _Even if you don't, no one cares. You think I made you bleed last time_? _Wait till I'm done with you today_."

Feeling her tense up even more beneath him, he continued, enjoying the power he had over her. Enjoying her panic.

" _You know your father let me have you the first time, don't you? He used me to spy on Gradogh and I blackmailed him. I demanded he give you to me and he agreed_ ," Ovic purred. " _How does it feel knowing your own family was willing to give you up like a bag of gold_?"

" _I wish I could tell you I'm surprised by what you've told me about my father, but that's not the worst thing I've learned about Hus while we've been on this cursed planet_ ," she murmured, forcing herself to focus on something other than her panic and fear.

" _Your father was a weak man. He had no idea how to lead the Houses of Boreth to greatness. His loss is the planet's gain_."

And it was those words that finally propelled Shakeba into action once more. Ovic would not break her again. Slowly, she moved against him, as if in pleasure, as if begging for more. She forced a moan from her throat, grateful that the pillow her face was buried in muffled the sound enough to make it seem like she just might be enjoying this. And while Ovic delighted in her response, and continued to prepare her for what he had planned, Shakeba reached her hand under the pillow her face was smashed into, seeking the hair stick she'd planted there earlier.

Stick in hand, she lifted her head as much as she could, fighting off the waves of anxiety that threatened to reduce her to nothing more than tears.

" _I want to see you first_ ," she cried, her words partially garbled by the pillow.

" _What_?" he asked, hoping she was still resisting him, aroused by her fear.

" _Your face_ ," she gasped. " _Before we do this, let me see your face_."

He flipped her over again and she fought to keep her hand, and the stick she was holding, hidden. Once again, she felt a pain, this one near her tailbone. Some Klingons didn't understand the disparity between human strength and their own. Ovic knew full well how much more powerful he was than her and he reveled in the discomfort that flashed across her face.

She reached up to him with her free hand. He looked disappointed and she worried she might've angered him. The last thing she wanted was for Ovic to be angry.

" _You've always been so handsome_ ," she cooed. " _What an honor for me that you allow me to share your bed once more_."

" _You're so ugly, you're almost cute_ ," he replied, his eyes engulfed in lust – both for her body and her blood.

" _May I touch your forehead_?" she asked, telling herself with what little dry humor she could muster that she had to succeed in killing him because she could never let him live to tell others she had made such a request.

He acquiesced by lowering his head closer to her and as she caressed his disgusting skin, she quickly brought the hair stick forward and rammed it into his eye.

His howl of pain would be something for her to savor later. First, she needed to get out from under him, a task made harder by the fact that he'd ripped multiple tendons in her right leg and whatever he'd done to the muscles near her tailbone left her feeling like her good leg would give out any moment. As she wriggled free from him, he grabbed her left arm and she heard a snap as he pulled her back, followed by a rush of pain. All she needed to do was get to his disruptor. But her arm was broken and her legs felt like gelatin. She looked up at him.

" _I hate you_ ," she seethed, grabbing the stick from his eye, ignoring the yelp he gave.

" _You bitch_ ," he shouted, slapping her face so hard, she saw stars. She couldn't wait for her vision to clear. She had to strike now. Hoping she was close, she rammed the stick into his face again. She'd hoped to take out his other eye but she missed, gouging his cheek instead. Purple blood dripped down on her as Ovic cursed and before he had the chance to hit her again, she grabbed the stick from his cheek and thrust it once more in his good eye. Kicking as best she could, she scrambled away from him, off the bed, grabbing his disruptor as she fell to her knees.

It took more power than she thought she had to pull herself to her feet. Ovic couldn't see her but he turned towards the sounds she was making, ready to lunge for her.

" _Don't move_ ," she hissed. " _I'm holding your disruptor and if you don't think I'm ready to use it, you have another thing coming_."

And at that moment, an explosion rang out, so powerful, it caused reverberations through the building. Shakeba looked at the bracelet on the window ledge to see it was blinking red. The drill was being destroyed.

" _What was that_?" Ovic cried, his face turned towards the explosion. " _What did you do_?"

" _You stole happiness from me. Killed my brothers, tried to kill my father_ ," Shakeba murmured as she drew closer to him, limping badly. " _And now, I am taking everything from you_."

" _You'll never get away with this. They'll kill you before you leave the building_ ," Ovic threatened, the last desperate attempt of a sad, pitiful man to control her.

" _Well, I guess I'll see you in Gre'thor then_ ," she muttered before pulling the trigger of his disruptor.

 


	32. Chapter 32

"I've lost their signals," Hendorff announced grimly.

"Both of them?" Jim asked, already suspecting the answer based on how upset Hendorff looked.

"Yes," the other man gritted out.

Inside, Jim felt a wave of panic. Had they found McCoy before they were killed? Was McCoy already dead? No, his biomonitor was still active. But what if the Klingons had found a way to remove the biomonitor without disabling the device? What if they were using it as a trap to lure Starfleet in? Jim suppressed his thoughts, refusing to let himself feel anything. This was a mission. He could not allow it to become personal…well, more personal.

"I'm going over there," he decided resolutely, his tone allowing for no argument. But that had never stopped Spock before.

"Captain, to do so would be unwise."

"We should send over more security before we send you over," Hendorff offered, seeing Spock's resistance as an opening to voice his own disagreement with the Captain's statement.

"So, you'd rather we lose more men?" Jim asked Hendorff, knowing the minute it left his mouth that he'd said the wrong thing on several levels.

"You'd rather we lose our captain instead?" a female voice piped up. Uhura gave Jim her best 'You're being an idiot' look. He scowled at her in response but she didn't look away. Jim hated getting into pissing contests with Uhura. She always won.

"What do you all propose? We can't just abandon Bones."

"We have the readings on his biomonitor. Why don't we take a moment and confirm we sent our men to the right spot?" Hendorff suggested.

"You're sure we can't transport him out?" Jim asked Scotty.

"Cap'n, we were lucky we got those men over. There's terrible interference with the transporter beam right now. Even if we send another group over, we'll have to transport them to the woods this time, and let them find their own way to the camp."

Uhura looked at the communications array in front of her.

"Scotty's right. Something is creating a distortion right now." She looked up, her eyes bright.

"Something?" Jim asked.

"If I didn't know better…" Uhura trailed off.

"What?" Jim asked impatiently.

"It would appear some sort of massive explosion has hit the Klingon camp," Spock said, looking up from his own makeshift console within the temporary office that Jim and his remaining planet-side crew had requisitioned from the Celosians.

"They did it!" Scotty said excitedly. "They blew up the drill!" He shared a smile with Uhura before both crew members got serious once more.

"In the long term, the drill's destruction will aid us in getting Doctor McCoy out of there. But right now, we can't send anyone over," Scotty said to Jim.

"You're certain it's the drill?" Jim asked.

"An explosion of this magnitude could only be caused by –"

"Yes or no, Spock. Just give me a yes or no." Jim didn't have time for a paragraph.

"Yes, captain. I am 92% sure it is the drill," Spock responded.

"I'll take those odds," Jim breathed. "How soon can we attempt to extract Bones?"

Scotty was looking at various readouts on the screens and PADDs that surrounded him.

"Twenty minutes? I doona know for sure, Cap'n."

"Not good enough, Mister Scott. Get me definitive answers now."

Scotty nodded at the younger man, knowing how Jim could be in tense situations. The room became a swirl of activity as Scotty ordered several engineering ensigns to report and go over the readings from one computer or another. Uhura began checking comms to see if they could get through to the Enterprise now that the drill had been taken out. In the hub-bub, Jim moved over to Hendorff.

"I'm sorry about your men," he said quietly to his chief of security.

Hendorff nodded an acknowledgement of his captain's words. The two men had not had the smoothest of starts to their relationship, what with throwing punches at one another in some podunk bar in Iowa the night before Jim impulsively showed up on a shuttle to the Academy but they had learned to respect, and eventually, like one another. And Hendorff knew better than most just how much every lost crew member weighed on Jim's conscience. The two men had spent many a late night together in the Captain's ready room, composing letters to the families of all the red shirts they had lost.

* * *

Minutes later, Jim and Spock were alone, conferring in Jim's quarters.

"Doctor McCoy has not left his spot, which we believe to be a holding cell of some sort based on the high levels of aluminum and steel we detect in that same area."

"Still, that doesn't mean he couldn't have set off the drill explosion," Jim countered, perhaps more heated than necessary.

"Do you wish to change the objectives of the next rescue mission, Captain? Should we only retrieve the doctor?"

Jim wasn't sure what he wanted to do. Was it worth risking Starfleet lives for someone who had betrayed Bones and allowed him to be taken prisoner? Was Uhura right in thinking it was all part of some over-arching plan? And if she was right, how could he leave someone sympathetic to Starfleet amongst the Klingons?

"We stick with the original plan for the next group – if they can find her without trouble, they retrieve the other human as well," he finally muttered.

Spock offered a solitary nod and, hands clasped behind his ramrod straight back, he exited the quarters.

Alone, Jim wondered if he was making the right choice. After several years at the head of the Enterprise, why didn't these kinds of decisions come more easily? Surely, they'd faced worse. But Jim never took for granted how even the most routine and benign missions could become fatal disasters in an instant.

Constant brushes with mortality had almost made Jim immune to any fear of death…but that immunity only applied to himself. He hated the idea of a crew member dying and off all the crew members, he could not imagine a world without Bones. The man was his best friend. He wasn't sure he deserved Leonard McCoy's fierce loyalty – in fact, he was pretty sure he didn't. But he took it all the same because he was selfish and starved for genuine love and friendship. Jim had come a long way from the brash young man who had traded in the only possession that mattered to him – a lovingly restored motorcycle – so he could join Starfleet on a dare. He'd learned to hide some of his hunger and some of it had been fed by being captain of the Fleet's flagship. But Bones knew, better than anyone – hell, maybe even better than he himself knew – just how much Jim kept hidden. He knew Jim squirreled food away in his quarters. He knew Jim allowed, even encouraged, others to think of him as a Casanova or an idiot who had lucked his way into his position. He knew Jim had nightmares at night, that he screamed like his flesh was being peeled away and the only thing that soothed him was a cold washcloth to his forehead. Bones knew everything there was to know about Jim Kirk, and save that one disastrous moment of their time at the Academy, Bones had stood beside Jim through it all. Neither man could explain how their friendship had evolved so quickly, and why they fit together the way they did but they knew they needed one another.

Jim would be damned, after all Bones had done for him, up to and including bringing him back from the dead – if he failed Bones now that it was his turn to save the doctor. The biggest regret amongst a slew of actions that filled Jim Kirk with remorse was the one time he'd fucked up with Bones back at the Academy. He wasn't about to let his best friend down again.

"Cap'n!" Scotty's voice over the comms startled Jim.

"What do you have for me, Scotty?"

"I think you need to see this to believe it."

"On my way," Jim answered. He wasn't sure if it was excitement or panic he was hearing in his chief engineer's voice and the uncertainty caused him to run to the engineer's work station. There, he found Scotty and Spock looking over several diagrams, including one of the planet.

"What am I looking at, Mister Scott?"

"She found a way, sir," the engineer responded with enthusiasm. "I doona know how she did it but she found a way to stabilize the crust and mantle of the planet."

"Does that mean…" Jim trailed off, almost afraid to voice the thought because it was too optimistic.

"Yes," Scotty replied, apparently unbothered by voicing good things. "It means she's stabilized the planet. We don't have to evacuate everyone."

"How'd they do it?" Jim asked in wonderment, not forgetting his own skepticism regarding the Klingon sympathizer and refusing to give her sole credit.

"I'm not completely sure," Scotty confessed. "From what I can tell, the drill wasn't just destroyed. It was burned."

"The metal from the drill melted back into the hole the Klingons drilled, thus sealing the rift and providing a temporary fill to help stabilize the planet's layers," Spock explained.

"Temporary?" Jim asked.

"To preserve the planet long term, more metal and earth will need to be added," Spock replied.

"But she's bought us time," Scotty interjected.

"Someone bought us time," Jim countered.

"It was her," Scotty muttered, not bothering to lower his voice. "She knew melting the drill down might just give us a chance to save this planet. And she had the skills to figure out exactly what kind of an explosion would result in the metal melting like that. Make no mistake, Cap'n. This was not random luck. This was planned."


	33. Chapter 33

It wasn't enough to kill Ovic. Shakeba couldn't deny it felt good to know he'd never touch her again. But she had overcome one very big obstacle only to have myriad others come to the forefront of her mind. Ovic's guards were all over this building. And they'd be searching for Ovic right now because of the drill explosion. She was far from done.

There was also the not-insignificant matter of her pulled tendons, broken arm, and whatever else Ovic had managed to do to her in the few minutes he'd had her under him. Her left arm was useless and Shakeba winced as she used her other arm to arrange the broken one by her side. She could handle a disruptor with one hand. But she'd be in real danger if she had to fight the guards. She wasn't going to let herself think about the fact that she was also running around in what amounted to lingerie – she didn't have time to change and wasn't sure she could anyway with her injuries. Her goal now was to shoot anyone before they could get close enough to do her more damage. Gingerly, she limped to the door, punching in an override code so she could open it manually, without noise. Once she had the door open, she looked down the hallway and saw two guards approaching. Quickly, she moved out of the room and shot down both guards before they'd had a chance to draw their weapons. She knew she'd been lucky. She couldn't expect every run-in to go so well.

And once she was out of this building, where would she go?

The answer to her question hit her so forcefully, she leaned against the wall to keep standing.

There was only one place she wanted to be. She just hoped she wasn't too late and that Avum had kept his word. Revitalized by her desire to make sure Doctor McCoy had the chance to escape, unscathed, Shakeba pushed away from the wall and limped down the hallway to the turbolift. She'd figure out what to do after McCoy had gotten to safety. Maybe he'd kill her and she wouldn't have to worry about it. Either way, she knew she wasn't returning with the Klingons to Boreth. The very thought of going back made her throat clench. She'd given Avum what he needed to take over House Morc. Provided he hadn't betrayed her trust and harmed Leonard, she couldn't think of a better person still living to be in charge of the Klingon population on Boreth. Doubtless, Katbujo would help him. As to whether Kor would approve of him – well, that wasn't Shakeba's problem.

Her problem was the guard waiting for the turbolift doors to open. Not expecting to be met with a disruptor blast, he fell to the ground before he could make a sound. But that was the end of Shakeba's streak of good luck. She was yanked out of the turbolift by another Klingon and slammed to the ground. Despite her best efforts, she whimpered in pain.

" _You_! _What are you doing here_?" the Klingon shouted at her.

Dimly, she realized he was one of Ovic's cronies – a man who had never failed to make a snide comment towards her when given the opportunity. She didn't answer him, saving her energy for an attempt to get up off the ground before he decided to shoot her.

" _You think you're better than me_? _That I'm not worth taking the time to respond to_?"

The Klingon grabbed her by her hair, tugging her off the ground and causing Shakeba to cry out in pain. She mumbled an answer and the Klingon yanked harder on her hair, bringing her face close to his own; close enough that she could see his pores, see the rivulets of sweat running down the sides of his face.

" _What did you say_?"

" _I said_ ," Shakeba murmured, doing her best to ignore the tears streaming down her cheeks, " _You're an imbecile to not take my weapon from me before dragging me up next to you_."

With that, she jammed her disruptor into the Klingon's gut and shot him. He let go of her as he fell to the ground, dead.

As she wiped her face, Shakeba realized it wasn't just tears trickling down. There was blood – red blood – her blood – and she had no idea where its source was. She was too hyped up on adrenaline to feel the pain but she knew she'd be hurting later.

Opening the doors to exit the building, Shakeba stumbled out into chaos. It simultaneously relieved her and made her more wary. Clearly, people out here were focused on the drill explosion. They would hardly pay her any heed as they ran around, trying to figure out which ship to get on and what to bring. But a scene like this would make it easier for someone to get a clean shot at her without her ever knowing where it came from.

Keeping her attention on the movements surrounding her in every direction wasn't a small task when walking was painful. And the soreness she was starting to feel from her nose gave her an idea of where the blood on her face had come from.

Suddenly, there were hands on her upper arms, and someone was turning her around to face them. Shakeba yelped in pain at the hand on her broken left arm and whoever was grabbing her dropped their hands from her.

" _You did it_?" Avum asked, taking in her wounds as he looked her over.

" _Yes_ ," she replied wearily, allowing herself some comfort in believing she probably wouldn't be shot or attacked while Avum was with her.

" _Good. Let's get you on my ship. We have to get out of here_." Avum paused for a moment then looked at her more critically.

" _Was this you_? _Did you do this_?" He nodded in the direction of the drill, where they could both see thick, black smoke billowing up into the evening sky.

Shakeba shook her head, not willing to lie out loud.

" _I don't care_ ," Avum answered, not believing her for a second. " _If it helped you kill Ovic, so be it._ "

He started to pull her with him, taking care to only grab her right arm, in the direction of the ships but Shakeba resisted.

" _What_?" he asked, turning around to face her.

" _I'm not ready_ ," she said. " _I want to make sure Doctor McCoy gets away_."

Avum gave her an incredulous look. " _After all this, you worry about that scrawny human_?"

But Shakeba refused to budge and he let her go. Slowly, it dawned on him.

" _You will not come back with us_?"

She shook her head again and this time, they both knew she wasn't lying.

" _What do I tell your mother_? _Your sister_? _That you abandoned us for humans_?"

His voice was sharp but not nearly as sharp as the feelings that had been festering in her chest since she regained her memories. Those feelings were so sharp, she wondered if they would poke her lungs, killing her from the inside out.

" _You tell Katbujo that I remember everything. I remember where I came from_."

Avum gave her a confused look.

" _She'll understand. Just make sure she knows I remember_."

With that, she limped away from her brother-in-law. If he wanted to shoot her, she wouldn't stop him but she would spend her last moments trying to make sure Doctor McCoy was freed.

* * *

Avum watched his sister-in-law as she limped in the direction of the makeshift prison and grabbed his communicator. He wouldn't flat-out stop her from her goal but that didn't mean he had to make it easy for her.

" _Yes_?"

" _Release the prisoner_. _Now_ ," Avum barked into his communicator. " _When Jokusho gets there, tell her he was released a while ago_."

" _Yes sir_."

If she was so intent on seeing her human friend, what would she do when he was already gone?

* * *

McCoy wished, for what had to be the hundredth time that day, that he understood Klingon. There had been a comm between one of the guards and someone else and now they had hurried him out of his cell, given him his bag, minus his phaser, and told him repeatedly, "Go!" while gesturing to the woods. McCoy couldn't be certain this wasn't some sick Klingon game, where as soon as he turned his back, they used him as hunting practice, but he also wasn't going to think twice about sticking around. So he ran, looking behind him several times to see if the guards grabbed their weapons. But they seemed preoccupied, looking in the direction of the camp and McCoy wondered if it had something to do with the explosion that had startled all of them just a half hour before. He'd known the explosion was the drill but what he couldn't figure out was how Shakeba had pulled it off. Had it been her? Was he foolish for wanting it to have been her, for wanting to find out she was still on his side? Well, of course that was foolish. But the drill had blown and that was all that mattered. Jim had been able to transport redshirts to the camp before that – now he'd be able to transport McCoy out as soon as McCoy commed him. Not really sure why, he stopped and hid behind a tree, still able to peek around the trunk and watch the guards.

He heard her before he saw her. Everything always sounded so angry in Klingon but the guttural nature of the language notwithstanding, he knew she was furious. As Shakeba came into view, he could see the pique on her face. McCoy also noticed the flimsy gown she was wearing and did his damnedest not to think about how it hugged her body close. He could see she was hurt. Her left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, her nose looked broken and he could see the start of a black eye. She was limping too. Suddenly, whatever she had gone through seemed significantly more inconvenient than sitting in a cell pondering mortality.

* * *

" _Tell me you didn't allow this to be used on him_ ," Shakeba fumed, as she pointed at the mind sifter still sitting in McCoy's otherwise empty cell.

" _Of course not. Avum told us to keep him safe from beatings, mind devices, and everything else. We did our jobs_ ," one of the guards sniffed, offended that this human was allowed to question them so flippantly. But that had been the other part of Avum's orders. They were not to harm her. Everyone knew who she was. And regardless of what rumors they chose to believe – be they the rumors of her infidelity to Ovic or her cold-blooded killing of his younger brother – they knew that if they were to receive the treasures Avum had promised them, they could not lay a finger on this little, wounded woman.

" _What did you do with him_?"

" _We released him. Before the explosion. He is long gone_."

" _And these two_?" She pointed to the dead Starfleet officers.

" _They had their phasers drawn_."

" _They wouldn't have hurt you. They were here to rescue the doctor_."

" _We were not told to take care of all humans. Just the one_."

Shakeba had no intention of killing either guard. They were idiots, to be sure, but they'd kept McCoy safe.

Unfortunately, the three of them heard a shouting from the woods. Shakeba's ears perked up because she knew that grumpy voice anywhere. The guards, however, had only shared a few hours with McCoy and the language barrier between them prevented the men from getting to know one another well. Even as they saw him approaching them with his hands up, the guards were suspicious. They'd told him to run. Why was he returning? Were there more humans behind him? They trained their disruptors on the man, yelling at him to stop moving. He paid them no heed and as one of them pulled the trigger, Shakeba shot the guard in the back. His partner turned to look at her, a snarl on his lips and she realized this would only end one way so she killed him as well.

She looked down at the second guard she'd killed. Benaq Tish. They'd gone to school together; had been in the same class until he'd left to serve his obligatory time in the Klingon Empire Army. Benaq had never been explicitly mean to her. He'd watched his friends tease Shakeba, a look in his eyes that she had grown familiar with through the years. One part pity, another part revulsion, and then something else. Anger. He had blamed her for existing – if she hadn't been there, none of his friends would have called her the countless names they'd yelled out on the playground and in the streets. Shakeba was familiar with this particular anger which showed up in so many of her fellow Klingon's eyes.

" _I didn't want to be there, you know_ ," she whispered over his dead body. " _No one asked me what I wanted but maybe they should've_."

Later, if there were to be a later, she'd deal with all the blood on her hands. Right now? All she wanted was to make sure McCoy was safe. She looked in his direction but didn't see him. Had he been hit?

"Leonard!" she yelled, moving as quickly as she could past the cell, into the woods.

"I'm okay," a voice grumbled back from shrubbery about 3 meters away from her.

"Did they hit you?" she asked, almost falling as she walked the uneven ground to get closer to him.

"Naw," he replied, finally standing up. "Damn near grazed my ear. Figured I was safe if they couldn't see me." He frowned as he watched Shakeba limp to him.

"Stop moving. You're hurt."

"I'm fine," she replied, continuing to move towards him even as she winced with each step.

"The hell you are. Stop moving before you do permanent damage to yourself."

McCoy moved towards her hesitantly and Shakeba realized she was still clutching Ovic's disruptor in her good hand. She clicked the safety and threw the weapon to the ground.

"I'm not here to harm you," she assured him, her wide eyes almost the size of saucers.

"Yeah, I figured that out around the moment you killed the guards." Actually, he'd wanted to believe it from the moment they were captured, had hoped it was true from the minute the drill explosion had torn through the camp, but that was neither here nor there.

"Lemme look at you," he said quietly, reaching for her broken arm, his tricorder already out.

She stayed still as he ran the device over her arm and then her face.

"I'm sorry," she finally whispered, as he knelt down to examine her leg with the tricorder. "I had to make you think I was betraying you –"

"Yeah, we'll have a nice long talk about that later, okay?" he interrupted, standing to look her in the eye again. His expression was firm, but not unkind. "I don't know what you did in the short time we were separated but you've managed to sever a tendon in your upper right thigh, dislocate your tailbone, break your arm and nose, and who knows what else might be hiding from my scans."

He expected her to respond with a clever retort. When, instead, Shakeba burst into tears, McCoy was taken aback.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, rubbing her back as she curled into him, "You're okay. Nothing's so broke we can't fix it."

Shakeba couldn't tell him why she was crying. She couldn't get enough air into her lungs to think about communicating. All she could do was sob and let him comfort her. The adrenaline was wearing off and she hurt everywhere. Her thoughts focused solely on how Ovic had held her down once more and just how close she'd come to letting him hurt her again. She didn't feel relief or joy standing in the woods with Doctor McCoy – she was petrified of the near misses she had experienced to get here, not yet certain this was anything more than a dream from which she'd wake up to feel Ovic's rancid breath against her cheek, while he destroyed her from the inside out.

McCoy suspected Shakeba was starting to feel just how much she'd been hurt in addition to whatever it was she'd seen or done to put her in such a condition. She was hysterical and he wished he had a hypo he could give her to sedate her but his medical supplies were on the low side. It didn't matter because all he needed to do was comm Jim and they'd be whisked away from this place.

Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms, taking pains to not aggravate the broken arm or severed tendon. She let him pick her up without resisting and only later, months later, would he realize how significant it was that she allowed him to touch her, to move her, while she was falling apart. Her trust in him was so resolute, it never passed her mind to second-guess his intentions. Later, he'd feel guilty upon realizing his trust in her was nowhere near as firm.

In that moment, however, his only thought was getting her to a safe location.

"Darlin', I need you listen to me and do as I say," McCoy murmured, keeping his voice calm as he walked through the woods with Shakeba in his arms. "Can you do that for me?"

He felt her nod against his chest.

"In my pack," he nodded to his right shoulder where he'd slung his bag, "you'll find my communicator. I need you to get it out and flip it open, okay?"

Another nod and slowly, she reached her good arm out to grab at the pack. It took some rummaging, but she fished the communicator out. Unfortunately, she moved her broken arm in the process and the wave of pain was enough to make her pass out. McCoy looked down, both exasperated at, and worried for, the unconscious woman in his arms. His exasperation instantly evaporated as he realized she'd flipped the communicator open before losing consciousness.

"Jim," he barked into the device. "Jim, do you read me?"

"Is that you, doctor?" came a familiar brogue over the device.

"Scotty! Do you have my signal?"

"Aye, that I do," the engineer replied.

"Get us out of here."

"Us?"

"I've got Shakeba with me. I don't care where you beam us, just get us away from the Klingons."

"Aye," was the last thing he heard before feeling and hearing the familiar tingles of the transporter beam.

In an instant, he was back on the Enterprise and though he would never admit it, McCoy couldn't believe how much he'd missed the old girl.

His joy was short-lived as Jim came around from behind the transporter console with two security officers behind him, their phasers drawn.

"Bones! You got out," Jim cried and while his tone was jovial, the scowl he gave the inert woman in McCoy's arms filled the doctor with apprehension.

"I did. And the drill's destroyed, thanks to this one," he nodded down at Shakeba as he spoke.

"That's…good. We'll take her from here," Jim replied, looking at the guards behind him and motioning for them to step forward.

"In a pig's eye you will," McCoy retorted. "She goes nowhere till after I take her to med bay and fix her up."

Jim opened his mouth to protest and McCoy cut him off before a sound could come out.

"I mean it, Jim. I don't care what you think of her or what you intend to do with her, she gets medical attention first. At the very least, we allow her to change into actual clothing before we throw her in the brig."

Jim closed his mouth and gave McCoy a hard stare before answering.

"Fine, patch her up. And the minute she's conscious and able to move, she goes to the brig."

The two friends would have stayed there indefinitely, staring one another down in a stand-off of wills but for the fact that McCoy had a seriously injured woman in his arms. He left the transporter room without a single word more and Jim sighed, then looked at the security officers.

"Follow him. And the minute she's awake, I want to know."


	34. Chapter 34

Nineteen years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42 

It was dark when she awoke. Everything hurt and the girl whimpered.

" _Shhh_. _You're fine_ ," a familiar deep voice called out.

" _Daddy_? _What happened_?"

" _You took a nasty tumble, that's all_."

A hand reached out and rubbed the top of her head. Slowly, it came back to her. They were in the woods. Hus had taken the children out for yet another survival trip. Jokusho had hunted down a warrigul with every intention of capturing it and bringing it back to House Morc as a pet. The warrigul had other ideas and charged the tree she had climbed to get a better view of the animal. The last thing she remembered was falling from her spot in the branches, watching the ground rush up to meet her. Later, Gradogh would mock her for thinking she could capture and tame a warrigul on her own. And Drel'ak would tell her Hus had fought the creature off to get to her unconscious form. Korgihl would be summoned to attend to her broken arm and leg. Astori would pout that her youngest sister was getting so much attention for falling out of a tree when it was the first trip on which Astori had managed swim across the lake in her full armor. No one was paying heed to her accomplishment and that was how it always was. Jokusho got all the attention. It was so annoying.

Broken bones in the 23rd century were easily remedied. Resentments among family members took longer to heal. Jokusho had been a member of House Morc for six years and lasting divisions had been formed. Gradogh was never going to accept the human girl as a suitable replacement for his older brother. Astori wavered between wanting to maintain her status among her friends and wanting to be closer to her younger sister. Drel'ak had always been firmly in Jokusho's corner, as had Hus. Katbujo? Sometimes she wasn't sure herself how she felt about the youngest child that had been imposed on her. Over time, she would accept Jokusho as her own. But in those early years, she still resented Jokusho's presence, especially as she watched the oldest sons of her peers receive their first and second rights. Had Katbujo liked her second son more, perhaps Gradogh would have aligned with her to form a more formidable opposition to Jokusho. But Katbujo couldn't bring herself to love Gradogh the way she had loved her eldest son.

Jokusho knew she was a source of tension in the family. She accepted the story her parents told her about how Hus had found her – accepted the excuse that she couldn't remember her past before Boreth because she had been malnourished and sickly when Hus had come across her. But no story could explain away the awkward, anguished pauses that arose from time to time when the subject of a dead brother she had never known would come up in conversation or some shortcoming on her part would be mentioned.

* * *

Eighteen years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

Jokusho wiped the sweat from her eyelashes and winced. Could eyelashes hurt? Because hers did. She looked at the stopwatch she's attached to a steel chain around her neck. One more hour. She just needed to make it through another hour.

Every other weekend, Hus insisted on taking the kids into the woods and running various combat/disaster/emergency scenarios. Gradogh and Drel'ak seemed to love the excursions. Astori complained that they gave her less time to hang out with her friends. Jokusho would never admit it but she hated the weekends in the woods. They were painful for her in a way that didn't seem to apply to her siblings. She was never the fastest or the strongest – most of the time, she was just happy to not be the first one called out.

This time, she had made it to the end…well, if she managed to stay hidden for the next 55 minutes. It was tempting to fantasize about the sonic shower waiting for her when she got home – the soft bed she'd get to crawl into that night. School would be a welcome relief from these war games.

Before she could indulge her imagination too much, a sound stirred in the bushes behind her and Jokusho aimed her disruptor accordingly. They used actual weapons on these outings but the weapons were either too dull to cut, or loaded with brightly colored paint pellets. Get hit or stabbed and you were out. Jokusho hated being tagged out. She knew Hus had lower standards for her and it angered her. She wanted to prove she was as much a warrior as Gradogh or Drel'ak.

" _Hey, don't shoot. It's just me_."

" _But you're exactly who I should be shooting at_!"

" _Look, we've got 50 minutes left. You don't shoot me, I don't shoot you_."

Jokusho considered Drel'ak's words.

" _Okay_ ," she finally agreed, lowering her disruptor. Drel'ak moved out of his hiding spot and joined Jokusho in the trench she'd dug for herself.

" _Look at you, making it to the end_ ," Drel'ak teased as he burrowed into the trench, bumping shoulders with her in the process.

" _This isn't the first time_!" Jokusho replied, indignant.

" _I know, I know_ ," Drel'ak gave her a long look. " _You're not bad at this whole survival thing, you know_?"

Jokusho looked away from him. " _Don't pander_ ," she muttered.

" _I'm not. You think we don't all know this is harder on you than the rest of us_?"

" _Not like it's impossible_ ," she grumbled, uncomfortable with her brother's praise. Drel'ak had a funny way of disarming her with his words and as much as she loved him, Jokusho didn't always want him poking at her, digging deep for the emotional connections. But she didn't have time to allow her discomfort to bloom. She heard another rustling near them. Drel'ak seemed oblivious to the noise, continuing to ramble about what he wanted to eat that night for dinner. Sometimes it seemed like all he thought about was food.

" _Shhh_ ," Jokusho admonished, poking her elbow into his ribs.

" _What_?" he asked but before she could tell him they weren't alone, they heard the discharge of a disruptor and the chest of Drel'ak's fatigues blossomed with a neon orange splatter.

" _Motherfu_ –"

Before he could finish, they both heard Gradogh crowing in delight.

" _I got you, pissant_! _Now who're you talking to_? _Astori or Jokusho_? _Doesn't matter. I'll get your buddy in a second_."

Jokusho and Drel'ak looked at one another. " _Go_ ," Drel'ak mouthed to her and Jokusho didn't hesitate. She'd fought all weekend to get through and she wasn't about to let Gradogh ruin things for her now.

Drel'ak stood up, making a lot of noise in the process, to mask whatever sounds she might make as she crept away.

" _You're no better than a motherless Romulan, you know that?_ " he yelled to Gradogh, who dropped down from his position in a tree to give his little brother some shit.

" _Stop fucking around. Which sister were you yacking at_?"

" _Astori. She's over there_ ," Drel'ak replied, pointing in the opposite direction of where Jokusho had run. Drel'ak knew Gradogh wouldn't stop if he knew it was Jokusho. His older brother took special delight in hunting her down weekend after weekend. And when he caught her, he wasn't shy about throwing an extra punch or elbow to the face her way. As though Jokusho needed more to recover from after wilderness weekends. But that was Gradogh. He knew she was weak and it disgusted him.

Gradogh stared at Drel'ak and shook his head.

" _You're the worst liar_ ," he muttered, heading towards Jokusho. " _You really think I don't know how you protect her_? _How everyone is always protecting precious princess Jokusho_?"

He made it five steps before a disruptor went off and Gradogh's fatigues bore the same orange paint splatter across the front. Furious, he spun back to his brother.

" _You set me up_ ," he snarled.

" _Did not. You ran your mouth_. _What'd you think she was gonna do_? _Wait for you to come get her_?"

That was exactly what Gradogh had expected and he seethed about it all the way home, complaining that Jokusho had only gotten him because Drel'ak had helped her out. Everyone was too tired, and too eager to return to the creature comforts of their home to pay him much attention. Jokusho knew Gradogh would find a way to pay her back – some public humiliation in the halls of school or on the town square as she walked home – she didn't know when he'd strike, but she knew she'd crossed a line, striking him. Still, it was worth it to see how proud Hus had been when she made it to the end, the only sibling who hadn't been struck by one of the others. Every muscle hurt and she had a hard time falling asleep because she was imagining all the things Gradogh might do to get back at her but she'd do it all again in a heartbeat.

* * *

Fifteen years before the Klingon raid on Celos-D42

" _It's not fair_! _You always treat me differently from everyone else when it's convenient for you_!"

With that angry declaration, a sixteen-year-old Jokusho flounced from her parents' bedroom, upset at not being allowed to attend an event her siblings and all their friends would be at. An event Hus worried would turn violent. He turned to look at his wife with a long-suffering sigh, but if he had been expecting sympathy from her, he had another thing coming. Instead, she gave him a look – the kind of look she would give him before telling him he'd be sleeping in a separate room that night.

" _What_?" he asked, not clear on how their youngest daughter's hissy fit was his fault.

" _Don't play innocent with me_ ," Katbujo retorted angrily.

" _It's not playing if I genuinely have no idea why you're mad_."

" _The fact that you're so clueless is even more infuriating_."

Hus gave his wife a glare.

" _Why don't you clue me in then_? _Or would you rather just fester_?"

He went over to his side of the bed to grab a pillow. If Katbujo wanted to simmer in anger, she could do so alone.

" _Do you understand just what you've done by bringing her into our house and erasing her memories_?" Katbujo placed her hands on her hips, watching her husband with razor-sharp eyes.

" _This again_?" Hus sat back down on the bed, figuring if this argument was rearing its ugly head, he better enjoy the bed while he still could.

" _This again_?" Katbujo sneered in a mocking tone. " _You have created a ticking time bomb and you want to treat it like everything is fine. What happens when she remembers the truth, dear husband_?"

" _Who says she's ever going to remember_?"

" _She will destroy this house…maybe Klingon society as a whole_ ," Katbujo muttered ominously.

Hus rolled his eyes. Katbujo didn't give into histrionics often but this was one topic she loved to dramatize.

" _She doesn't even weigh as much as a targ when she's soaking wet_ ," he offered in rebuttal. " _I hardly think she'll be the downfall of civilization as we know it_."

His words only flamed his wife's anger further.

" _You've raised her to hate what she is_ ," Katbujo hissed.

" _Oh_? _Now I'm the only one raising her_?" Hus protested.

" _I never wanted to go along with your schemes – I was perfectly happy telling her the truth from the beginning. But no. You wanted her to think her parents had abandoned her. You wanted her to hate humans. And you won. But you didn't think it through. She's a human. What kind of a life are we providing her if we're teaching her to hate what she is_?"

Hus had heard this speech before. It never got less irritating to listen to.

" _She's not a human_ ," he countered, his own frustrations seeping into his tone. " _She's a Klingon_."

" _Except she's not_!" Katbujo exploded. " _You want to pretend you can have it both ways – raise a human as a Klingon…but then you won't let her live as a Klingon_!"

" _You think I should let her go tonight_?" Hus demanded, his voice incredulous. " _What if they start fighting, like they do every year_? _What chance will she have in a rioting crowd_?"

" _But you insist that you've raised her as a Klingon_! _Don't you understand why she's so angry with you_?"

" _I don't care about her anger_!" Hus roared, his patience with this conversation completely evaporating. " _I will not lose my youngest child in some foolish attempt to let her feel like she's the same as everyone else_."

" _Do you hear yourself_?" Katbujo replied, her words laced with fury. " _In one breath, you claim she is Klingon and in the next, you swear she can't be treated like everyone else_."

"W _hy does this matter_?" Hus couldn't understand what the issue was. Who cared if he needed to protect his youngest a little more than his other children? She was still a Klingon to him.

" _It matters_ ," Katbujo seethed, " _because one day, that girl is going to wake up and realize she can't continue to hate humans when she is, herself, human. It matters because she might, someday, remember watching you kill her birth mother. It matters because I love her like she's my own child, from my own wombs, and yet you would have me stand by and let her be hurt repeatedly – if not because we treat her differently than her siblings, then because someone at school says something to her about her appearance or someone throws rocks at her on the way home or any other of the countless acts she has silently suffered for the last ten years. I'm tired of it, Hus. I don't want to watch my baby destroy herself out of self-loathing and a desire to fit in with a people who will never truly accept her_."

Katbujo angrily wiped the tears from her face as she stared at her husband. He stared back at her and they both realized neither would be able to change the other's mind.

Slowly, Hus grabbed his pillow from the bed before gathering toiletries to take with him to one of the guest bedrooms. Before leaving, he turned to look sadly at Katbujo.

" _You have so much love and admiration for our youngest. Where is that same admiration for our society_?"

" _Maybe you should ask yourself the same question the next time you tell Jokusho she can't attend something you let her siblings go to_ ," Katbujo snapped, tired of her husband's inability to listen, really listen, to what she was trying to tell him.

Alone in their room, Katbujo sat on the bed and stared vacantly at the empty space around her. Hus didn't understand because he didn't know what it was like to hate a part of himself – to have something refused to him. Katbujo realized she couldn't exactly understand what her daughter was going through…but as a woman in the decidedly patriarchal Klingon society, she knew what it felt like to feel lesser than another based on something so arbitrary as gender – a thing she had no control over. She knew how much a person could hate themselves for the way others treated them – for the way an entire society was rigged to make them feel inferior. And she knew, above all, that what she and Hus had done to this human girl was horribly unfair. Lying to her about her past was only going to make Jokusho that much angrier when she discovered the truth. And Katbujo knew – it was only a matter of time before the young woman realized her life was based on lies. Kahless help them all when that day came.

In the meantime, Katbujo did her best to be a loving mother to her adopted daughter. There were missteps, to be sure. Not supporting Jokusho more when she left Ovic, blaming Jokusho for the discomfort and tensions created by her accidental killing of Ovic's brother – there were plenty of reasons for the girl to hate Katbujo. But Katbujo hoped, perhaps foolishly, that her daughter would remember the nights she spent nursing her to health after a bout of Ferengi flu, teaching her how to do her hair in a similar style to all her classmates, or laughing with her over Gradogh's latest stupid project. Against all evidence to the contrary, Katbujo had to hope the positives would drown out the negatives when the day of reckoning came.


End file.
